Blood and Guts

I try to give blood. It's on my list of things to do in my life. Maybe once a year or so, I think "that would be a nice thing to do, and it will be a nice way to conquer my fear of needles." I really do try. It just never works out.

I get very little support in this endeavor, by the way. Every time I bring it up to friends, they tell me horror stories about passing out. A few seem to have a pathological fear of blood. None of them seems to understand my need to donate my blood at least once in my life.

Every few months, there's a blood drive at work. And one of my friends donates regularly, so I decided to go down with him on Thursday. He advised me to eat and drink before I went. So I did. I was very good. I filled out the questionnaire, got my finger prick, lay down on the bed...Dave, my friend, was next to me, and let me tell you, the blood was just flying out of him.

Periodically, the guy who told you which bed to go to (who was wearing a purple shirt) would come by and look at the nurse by me, and eventually she came over. She clamped the band around my arm and had me squeeze a little toy. Then the guy in the purple shirt came over and tapped my arm and told her which vein to go for. It occurred to me at that point that maybe this girl was new or something, but she had a line in the woman next to me, so I figured it would be OK.

So, the stupid girl puts the needle in, and it really hurt. But I've never given blood before, and I'm kind of a baby about needles, so I'm trying to be brave...and then she runs over to the guy collecting Dave's blood and says "her vein is blowing up."
So he says "you have to take it out. Clamp it, tape it down, and I'll be right over."
Then she gets the guy in the purple shirt, and they're all working on getting the port out of my arm.
I was trying not to look, so I stayed facing Dave, who was COMPLETELY DONE by this point.
The girl bandaged my arm, and I asked her what happened.
So she turned to the man in the purple shirt and tells him that "she wants to know why this is happening."
And the man in the purple shirt explained it thusly: "Move over to the next bed and we'll try a vein in your other arm."

Umm...no. No you won't.

By this point, Dave was up drinking juice and eating cake like no one took a pint of blood out of him just ten minutes ago. We were back at our desks within an hour.


It's like Mardi Gras in my crelbow right now. And I'm starting to feel my dream of donating blood just floating (or is that flowing?) away.

Really? There's no more concise way to say this?

Another close encounter...from the same, apparently authorless, document:


Facilities, physicians and other health care professionals are reminded that to pursue an inquiry or complaint on behalf of a member through Member Services, facilities, physicians and other health care professionals must have the consent of the member.

Close encounter with the English language

This sentence may have met a native speaker once at a party:

Participating physicians are required to participate in this program.

Hawaii...

I never posted on Hawaii, did I?
It was beautiful. I swam and hiked and wrote...a lot.
I have a few hundred pictures to upload, but I think these should give you an idea for now:

 I tore my pants getting this picture.

A few more Bradys (my parents, Lauren and Jason) enjoying the sunrise on Haleakala. My dad's stupid jacket was provided by the bike tour he was on. The rest of us are dressing ourselves now.

Matt exploring tidal pools - so cute! I have about 10 pictures just like this. My husband is seriously, like 4 or something. And then he wins a bunch of drink tickets in a poker tournament and we get trashed.

My mom with her flowers. Some idiot gave her these...he was actually trying to clean up after a beach party...and she would not let go of them, despite the fact that they were as big as her. She carted these things all over Maui. Then, literally 6 hours later, at the very last second before we reboarded the boat, she discovered that they were covered in ants and threw them all in the dumpster.

Post-operative procedures

Discovered while researching my latest scintillating Women's Health article:

To prevent infection, for a few weeks after the cesarean birth you should not place anything in your vagina.


But, but...the baby takes up so much closet space! Where am I supposed to store my tamagotchi?!?