Adventures in Blood Donating...

Well, I did it again. I put my life (and veins) in the hands of Hawaii's Most Mediocre. Ya, I must be nuts. I guess I feel like I have so much extra blood just going to waste that I might as well let someone else know how crappy it is to be me. So I inject myself into to them. I can see it now, some guy wakes up in the ER and suddenly finds himself attracted only to the women who don’t find him that way and vice versa. He also finds that he has gained weight, but can't lose it. The list goes on...

This was one of the times where donating blood becomes a story. Well, an adventure really. You sit down and fill out this survey. The first question is my favorite. "Are you feeling well?" Like I’m just gonna put down, "Well, I'm sexually frustrated, I hate my 'bed' and as a result of it, my neck is totally out of whack, I'm stressed out over all my classes and I don’t drink, but I'd swear I have a hangover."
I put yes.
Then comes the interview questions. My bro-in-law is a pig (meaning cop, technically, but you decide...) and he told me the kinds of questions they ask you for a job. Why should I get the same ones every 2 months when I donate? Honestly! They ask the kind of questions that would make Madonna blush.
"Have you ever had sex..."
"I should be so lucky."
"...with a man for money?"
"Oh...I thought you...er...(sigh) same answer..."

After 21 questions that Ellen Degenerous wouldn't admit to, came the prep. I lay down on the table and notice after 5 min that they still haven’t found a vein. I guess my girlfriend was wrong...I'm not that vein after all. This petite little Hawaiian girl (who obviously couldn’t get a job at a real medical facility) finally made her choice in a spot higher and to the side of where the needles usually go. The skin was thicker there. It took some hard pushing to get it in. As I lie there, I hear another one of the Apollo College drop-outs say, "Eww...gross....blood."

What? Eww...gross...blood? What do you expect at a BLOOD DRIVE!? My comfort level went way up, they said my tube started to fill up faster.

That was short lived, because after almost 15 min of squeezing this foam blood drop every 3-5 seconds, I still wasn’t done. So the inept assistant began to jiggle the needle. Still nothing. She found a guy who actually was some sort of MD. "Ah, yes, due to the angle and how deep the needle was put in, the opening of the needle is resting against the wall of the vein. Well just have to move it around a little."

Perfect, that was just what I needed. After the next painful minuets ended, I was glad to get up and get what I came for...all the free munchies I could down. Ya, I filled my backpack. I figured they bled me dry literally: I might as well do it fiscally to them...