Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Blood from a stone

Yesterday the Red Cross came to my place of employment for a blood drive. They come here a few times a year, and each year I think about donating and then never actually do it. I decided that this would be the time I finally would.

So I gathered up my rather small amount of courage, steeled myself against the idea of a GIANT NEEDLE going into my vein, and trotted down to the room they'd set up in. I passed the general screening and the iron test, so I went over to the row of cots and gave them my little info packet and collection of blood bags. The woman drawing blood took one look at my arm and told me she probably couldn't do anything with me. She smacked her fingers against my vein, made me squeeze a ball, pumped up the blood pressure cuff, and..nothing. My vein wouldn't rise. She tried the other arm, and..nothing. She called over another red cross person, who also tried to get my veins up. Nope. It wasn't working. Apparently my veins are so small that the giant needle would collapse them if they tried to use it on me. They shook their heads, told me they weren't comfortable even trying to get blood from me, and sent me on my way. So much for my good deed of the day.

Looking at my arms, I can't even see my veins through the skin. Last time I had blood drawn for a blood test, they had to stick me twice with the tiny butterfly needle before they could find the vein. I guess that should've been a clue that I wouldn't be the best candidate for giving blood.

Oh well. Now I know that any vampires looking for a late night snack will be sorely dissapointed if they try to suck my blood. Take that, Dracula. My tiny veins shall thwart your evil plot!

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