I gave blood yesterday for the first time in four or five years. If you haven’t done it in awhile I suggest you give it a shot as there have been some serious advances in blood-letting. After the initial interview and blood test, the lady asked me if I wanted to do the red cell retrieval method, which she claimed isn’t much different, just takes a bit longer, and it is a much bigger help to the Red Cross. I hadn’t told Tiff that I was going to give blood so I considered asking to go tell her where I was (we were at an art show together), but it’s for a good cause. I gave a typical non-committal “sure,” and she led me past the reclining cot-like chairs that I’m used to and introduced me to Alyx.
Alyx is not short for anything, I asked. It’s just to make the scary machine look friendlier. So they sit me down in the same sort of chair, smear iodine all over the better part of my arm, just as always, and they ask me to sign a death waiver. Seriously.They explain a bit more before I sign my life away. Alyx takes blood out of the body, puts it through a centrifuge which divides the red blood cells from the rest of the stuff that’s in blood, and then it takes the red blood cells and gives me back the rest. The fact that they are putting stuff back into my body requires a death waiver. My thought process went something like, “Wait, there’s a centrifuge! Sign me up!”
They stick me with the needle and Alyx kicks on, and the little tube turns red just as always. It’s different than how I remember it though. It hurts. Afraid that I’ve grown into a wuss in the past few years, I don’t say anything, but when I grimace, the attendant, nurse?, explains that unlike the old system that just waits for your heart to pump the blood, Alyx pulls the blood out of you. As disturbing as that sounds, the knowledge that it was working properly was comforting at the time. At least nothing’s wrong, although I did sign that death waiver.
The centrifuge kicks in and sure enough blood filters into a darkening red bag and yellowing clear bag. Then the process gets reversed, the first of four times that Alyx pushes the good stuff back into my arm. The red tube turns yellow as I feel the pull dissipate, and it doesn’t hurt as bad. The nurse says, out of the blue, “it’s okay to ask for a blanket.” I said something to the effect of what, and she explained that the yellow stuff would be returning to my body at room temperature. I might feel a chill. Great, I thought, and I signed a death waiver.
About halfway through, my hand falls asleep. Usually when a body part falls asleep, you try to get blood to it to get some feeling back in it, but with a giant needle sucking all the blood out, there’s no relief. Soon, I start moving my fingers with concern. I have to watch myself do this because I cannot feel my fingers moving. Yep, I signed a death waiver.
On the last round of yellow stuff returning to my body, I start to shiver. It’s very odd though; I’m not cold, I’m just shivering uncontrollably. My teeth are chattering, my arms are shaking. Just as I’m starting to feel the cold, Alyx turns off, the needle comes out, and the nurse wraps a tourniquet around my arm to hold the cotton ball in place, and keep me from bleeding to death.
I spent my obligatory ten minutes drinking juice and eating the six cracker sandwich pack talking to a frightening one toothed lady who told me that this was her first time giving blood because every other time she tried they thought she was drunk. I wanted to get away from her, and I knew Tiff would be worried, so still a little woozy, I grabbed a water and another cracker pack and went back to find Tiff.
I told Tiff the above story without as much detail, then I start feeling pretty bad. I wish we had brought the camera, because Tiff says I’m turning blue. My lips, around my eyes. I feel cold, and the water and crackers are gone too quickly. I send Tiff off to find food, assuring her that I’ll be okay. She comes back empty handed, there’s no food that will work, stupid Vegetarian Challenge. She agrees to go to a grocery store that’s a good walk away.
While she’s gone, things get fuzzy. I get up from my chair and stumble over to a patch of grass where I sit down, lie down, start to sweat. I start feeling better and somebody comes by and gives me a flag of Annandale, the town we were in. Tiff returns with food and water. I eat and drink and get some color. Pretty soon I turn blue again and have to repeat the process on the grassy patch. As I’m lying down sweating, undoubtedly drawing in customers, little kids are watching, and Tiff suggests I go back to the Red Cross people. I walked away from the blood-thirsty phlebotomists feeling better, but under orders to get a good meal. “There’s six dollar ribs!” which I can’t eat, stupid Vegetarian Challenge, but that’s okay, and there’s nothing I can do, because I signed a death waiver.
A few hours later, the color back in my face, we break down our tent, shows over. It’s usually not that tough, and it isn’t today, but I’m relegated to the sidelines, watching my young fiancé do all the heavy lifting, all the packing, and more or less all the work. So in the end, I didn’t die and didn’t even have to work. Plus, I saved a life, I hope, because it was not a fun process - somebody had better be saved.
2 comments:
Your account made me dizzy and I nearly passed out just reading about it. I'm sticking to the old fashioned method - I say let the heart do it's thing!! And, I didn't know about your vegetarian challenge. One of the things I reward myself with after giving blood is a nice, bloody steak from Outback. Hope you're feeling better! Carrell
This is Wendy from the American Red Cross. I ran across your blog entry this morning and just wanted to say thanks for donating! I hope you're feeling warm and unfuzzy now.
Post a Comment