So, as of late, I've been very busy and I just haven't had the chance to post any of my stories for the past several weeks. But don't worry... Today I bring to you a horror story from the week of Halloween. Donating plasma.
A little background on the situation: when I go to the doctor's office... I cry. No matter what happens, it's almost guaranteed that I will cry at least once during a trip to the doctors. Senior year of high school I had to get my blood drawn a couple times, and the first time was a big mess. I get all anxious and scared and tense and then angry and then... tears. So the second time that I went in to get blood drawn, my mom bribed my best friend to come with me so that I'd buck up a little bit.. and she also told me that if I was really good, we could go to Dairy Queen afterwards and she'd buy me ice cream. I found that day that if I had someone to talk to while the blood was being pumped that it really wasn't that bad and I didn't have to cry... so I just talk through it. And yes...I got ice cream.
Well, Kelsi and I decided we wanted to donate plasma for a little extra money. So, for like a week we drank nothing but water and had water chugging contests so that we would be plenty hydrated for donating plasma. Then, we made an appointment and went in. I don't really know why in the world I thought this was a good idea because me and getting blood drawn have not been good friends in the past, but for some reason I was just really excited for this. I think in my head it seemed like an adventure and I was being heroic and conquering my fears. My head was wrong.
The first thing on the agenda once you get there is a screening test. I walk into a little booth and a man makes me stand on a scale and takes my weight and blood pressure and all that fun stuff, and then explains that they have to take a small sample of my blood. I had no previous knowledge that this was going to happen. So I started to freak out a little bit and the tears started welling up. That's when the word barf started coming. It went something like...
"Wow.. a blast screen... interesting. Is this going to hurt? Worse than actually donating plasma itself.. wow. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Wooh. It's okay. We're fine. We're totally fine. Oh. Just so you know.. I might start crying. It's a definite possibility. Yeah, So there's that."
and then when the prick finally came
"Ow. oh. wooh. okay. Wow. That was fun. I only teared up a little. Wow. Go me. Hey that was awesome.".
After he tested my blood (which not to brag or anything he said I have the most beautiful blood he'd seen in weeks... yeah that's right. I have beautiful blood) he said that I should go outside in the waiting room. I was starting to calm down, but the anxiety was still on the surface and suddenly...
"Hey am I going to have to pee in a cup?"
After laughing off the initial shock of my question he explained that, yes, they would need a urine sample. Then after giving a little too much information on the state of my bladder and how I wasn't sure how possible a urine sample would be despite how much water I'd been drinking, I awkwardly left the room.
At this point, I was really proud of myself for making it this far, and then they called me into the physical portion. This wasn't really all that bad. There were a lot of awkward questions about whether I'd ever shot up with drugs, or been incarcerated in the last year... or prostituted since 1977, but after answering the long list of questions like THREE times, they seemed convinced that I had a pretty healthy and normal lifestyle. There was also the awkward urine sample part, which was a success by the way, but the only truly interesting thing that happened was when the doctor was checking my stomach. He asked if I had any abdominal pain, and began pushing down on my stomach. Then I had the mental image of someone having abdominal pain, so when he pushed on their stomach, they threw up on him. Naturally, this just led to a fit of giggles for me. After nervously laughing along for a few seconds and listening to my repeated giggly apologies, he asked what was so funny, and I said "What if I just threw up on you?". Yeah... that took him a little off guard to say the least. Finally, I answered the awkward list of questions one last time, and moved in to get my plasma taken.
My anxiety was pretty intense. I sat down on the chair and a guy named Matt came to prick my arm and set up all my tubes and what-not. He was actually really good about my uncontrollable talking, even though this time... it was a lot worse and there was a lot more anxiety in .
"So yeah.. I've never done this before and I really hate drawing blood. Mhmm. So yeah. Ew gross is that the tube? I'm going to be able to watch my blood being drawn? That's so gross. Wow. Um.. Yea. So by the way I'm probably going to cry. But don't worry it's not because I hate you. Maybe some people would think it's because I hate them. But I don't. I just cry. One time my mom had to bribe me actually. Yeah. Did you know my roommate's over there? Her name is Kelsi. Oh you pricked her too. She's awesome. Isn't she awesome?Was she freaking out or is it just me? Oh that's awkward. Not that I'm really freaking out I'm fine. I'm really fine..... Wow. It's over. I didn't cry. I didn't cry at all. Wow. I didn't even cry!!"
He asked me if I was going to be okay several more times before leaving me alone to ward off my urge to scream ... or sob, and the constant fear that I was going to lose my arm. Then after one grueling hour of trying to hold in all the emotions, they injected my remaining blood with saline back into my veins (which left me shivering for thirty minutes after it happened) and I was free to go home.
After I left, I was fine for the entire drive home. I didn't feel faint or weird in any way... and then we made it home... and that's when the weird things started happening. We got out of the car and began walking towards our apartment and I could. not. stop. laughing. I was doubled over with fits of insane laughter for absolutely no reason. This didn't really concern me.. I just thought that maybe it was because I was exhausted. In fact when we got to the apartment, I just laid down on the counter.
At this point, I still hadn't entirely gained the feeling back in my hand and Michaela commented that it looked swollen. This is when the emotional release came. All the anxiety and tension and holding in my emotions just exploded and I started sobbing about my hand being swollen and not wanting to die. Then, as everyone is trying to comfort me in confusion, I started to feel like I was going to pass out. I sat on the floor and then, next thing you know my roommates brought me pillows and a giant teddy bear to lay on. Within five minutes of laying on the floor I was asleep. Then I was awoken by Shalee (who had missed the sobbing fiasco) putting peanut butter on my nose. Immediately the sobbing resumed, and the great friends that I have... took pictures.
At first, I didn't really understand what had happened here about the emotional release. So my first theory was that all of my emotional control was stored in my plasma. Yeah... not all that accurate.. but it made sense to me at the time. Anyways... summary of the plasma event.. it was horrible and anxious and terrible, but I got thirty bucks. And even through all that emotional turmoil... it was totally worth it, and I'm definitely going to do it again. I'll keep you updated.
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