This is monumental for me. I just got back from giving blood!
Ok, wait - I just back from the cafeteria, where I got ice cream, because I was dizzy and shaky, when I got off the bus from giving blood. And, yes, I DO feel like I got attacked by a vampire...in my arm.
I'm normally scared - wait, TERRIFIED - of giving blood. But, it's Hospital Week, and they have all this crap that's going on around the hospital, and something inspired me to - to take a phrase from Nike - "just do it." Apparently, the hospital itself hasn't taken enough from me, in the two years that I've been here, so I elected to give more.
I was so nervous, I just kept texting people, to which I'm sure some of you fell victim - for that, I AM sorry. I kept getting all flashy and weird-feeling, and that was before I got on the bus (I stood outside, plastered against the side of the bus, like a covert ops spy, for about 10 min trying to convince myself to go in). I had to straight-faced answer questions like "Have you had sexual contact with a man who has had sexual contact with another man?" Well, I don't think so, but now, I can't be 110% sure of that. I don't know that ANY of us can be sure of that. I'll start asking around, though. I'll just say, in this day and age, now that it's cool and acceptable to be bi-, they have to ask you some really odd questions:
"Did you eat beef from a mad cow from the United Kingdom that had been shipped in from Africa, but sat dormant at a port in Reykjavik for longer than six months, while you got a tattoo from a gay man whose father was a dentist, and prescribed you Keflex for an ear infection you THOUGHT you had, that one Wednesday in September, when you called into work with a headache, and that girl who lived two doors down from you, had her friend over - well, you thought it was her friend, but it turns out, she was just seeing this other girl just to see if she could make her boyfriend jealous - and when you were over visiting, you kept making those stupid comments about how 'gay' something was, but then after you realized what was going on, you just sat quietly in the corner, trying not to say anything else that might make you look like an idiot, and then their cat got up on the couch next to you, and when you reached out to pet him, he sprayed you, and so you had to go through the rest of the night smelling like cat spray, and everyone was complaining about that weird smell, and it was just you, but you already felt too stupid to say anything?"
and the number 4 with a drawing of a hot dog underneath it, I think.
We were in one of those tiny blood drive buses, and it was tiny (VERY tiny), and smelly, and hot, and very, VERY dirty, and it made me nervous. So, I sat there, while she stuck me with a needle roughly the diameter of a drinking straw, and pumped my fist when I was supposed to pump my fist (hold for three, relax for five). And sweated. And got clammy. And kicked the lady's papers off my lap about 17 times, so that she'd have to crawl OVER me to get between the bus and my "comfy chair" that I'm SURE was crawling with...things. Then, I had to drink this tiny orange juice, and the container smelled like a meat pie. But I did good. I sweated it out, and I only almost threw up twice (I physically wretched)! I'm so proud of myself! And now, my blood is going to go save someone! Maybe! &=D Go, blood, go!
She said they call you every 56 days (wasn't that a movie about zombies?) to let you know you can go donate again, AND you get a card in the mail that you show every time you go donate. So, at the next car wreck, natural disaster, or long line at the post office, I can run up and say:
IT'S OK! I'M A CARD-CARRYING BLOOD DONOR!
And, amidst my protests, security will make me leave, like they always do. People have NO respect for the do-gooders of our society. &=(
All in all, it wasn't so bad, and I wouldn't mind going to do it again in 56 days.
Cripes. I keep getting up to answer the phone, and when I come to, I'm standing in a different part of the department. I don't think that ice cream did its job. And, that weenie orange juice. But for my donation, I got a hat that's too small and a shirt that's too big - in the end, I imagine it all averages out, right?
Great. One of my coworkers just came up and said I don't look so good. Fab. I think imma go home and lay down. I did that yesterday and forgot to wake up. I couldn't believe it, but I slept through the entire rest of the day. Oh, well - certainly wasn't the first time. I'm trying to come off a new medicine (that's apparently for people who seek "muffin-top tummy" - I've gained 15 lbs) and get on something else, so we'll see. Too bad, because that stuff was doing well, except for the flagrant need to eat EVERYTHING I could get my hands on (believe it or not, I managed to stay away from the cats' food). I don't like the feeling of being hungry, so I don't think I would do well as a homeless person. Unless newspaper and dirt are parts of a regular, well-balanced diet.
Ok, that's all. Imma post something else later. Or not. 'Cause "The Office" is on tonight.