***Squeamish about blood and/or needles? Skip the first four paragraphs***
I had an interesting day yesterday. I tried to give blood for the first time in about a year (I was on the do-not-call list for a while due to low iron). But they set up a mobile clinic right in my workplace yesterday, so I figured I'd give it another go.
As I was sitting, waiting for the nurse to ask the horribly invasive personal questions that ensure my blood won't horribly infect someone else, I noticed that one of my staff was out there donating blood, too. Good for him, I thought. But more on this later.
My Iron levels were fine, things were looking good... I got so far as the chair, arm outstretched, veins looking good (I'd made sure to eat and drink a lot of water before going - I was pretty proud of myself). So they poke my arm, and things are feeling norm... oh, wait. That _hurt_. Not just the normal 'oh dear, there's a 2-inch needle in my arm' discomfort, but actual pain. And then came the fun words from the nurse poking me "your vein moved. We've got enough that you can keep going, but we could re-start if it's not going to be comfortable". I sucked it up. I said "as long as you can keep that needle from moving around, I'll be ok, 'cuz it's only when it moves that it really hurts." So we kept going.
Normally, once the needle's in, I'm done in, like, 4 minutes. As I watched the # of grams creep slowly, slowly upwards on that bag (yes, I'm one of those people that doesn't mind watching my blood bleed (normally quickly) slowly out of me). I realized it was going to take forever, so I settled in for the long haul. Cuddled my sweater, laid back, staring at the ceiling (the one time I didn't take a book with me!), imagining all the workers above... And then I started to feel nauseous. Normally that wouldn't bother me. I know I'm not going to puke, and usually when I start feeling nauseous after donating blood, I'm thisclose to finishing, so they can take the needle out, finish up, and then deal with my physical issues. Not this time. After only about 250 grams (out of 500-something a person actually donates to create a unit), I started to feel sweaty and gross - a very good sign I'm about to pass out. I fought it for about 30 seconds, then signalled the nurse. We had to stop.
I realize that most of this is beyond my control, but I still feel guilty whenever I can't manage to donate blood. I feel like I've wasted the time of the nurses/staff on duty, and I feel like there's something wrong with me that I'm not strong enough to do it. Completely irrational, I know, but such is the way things work inside my head.
10 minutes, some cold compresses, and a juice box later, I was feeling fine and was about to be back on my feet. At that point, though, a coworker and another staff member walked by (as I was finishing up recovery), and asked about the staff member I mentioned at the beginning of this post. I pointed him out and it suddenly dawned on me that he was actually still there. Turns out the poor guy had not only passed out when he finished donating, but also passed out a second time when they tried to sit him up. He was out of commission for the rest of the day - sent home in a cab to his waiting girlfriend.
So on the downside - no blood donation. On the upside, extra long lunch hour for me!
Yesterday also marked my last dayon my old assignment. I moved my stuff into my new office yesterday afternoon, which was super fun, especially when trying not to use my left arm (no lifting after a blood donation, remember!). There are several pros and cons to this whole new office thing.
Pros: new team to mold to my evil ways, new office with actual walls up to the ceiling, door, and privacy!, new challenge and new learning opportunities
Cons: new team that may not mold to my evil ways, no natural light, no window to gaze out, and my old team with all their humour and hard work does not get to follow me down to the cave (as I'm affectionately calling my new office - it's in the basement, but it's brand new and absolutely lovely).
So all in all, as I've said in other forums, it was a mediocre day.
I had an interesting day yesterday. I tried to give blood for the first time in about a year (I was on the do-not-call list for a while due to low iron). But they set up a mobile clinic right in my workplace yesterday, so I figured I'd give it another go.
As I was sitting, waiting for the nurse to ask the horribly invasive personal questions that ensure my blood won't horribly infect someone else, I noticed that one of my staff was out there donating blood, too. Good for him, I thought. But more on this later.
My Iron levels were fine, things were looking good... I got so far as the chair, arm outstretched, veins looking good (I'd made sure to eat and drink a lot of water before going - I was pretty proud of myself). So they poke my arm, and things are feeling norm... oh, wait. That _hurt_. Not just the normal 'oh dear, there's a 2-inch needle in my arm' discomfort, but actual pain. And then came the fun words from the nurse poking me "your vein moved. We've got enough that you can keep going, but we could re-start if it's not going to be comfortable". I sucked it up. I said "as long as you can keep that needle from moving around, I'll be ok, 'cuz it's only when it moves that it really hurts." So we kept going.
Normally, once the needle's in, I'm done in, like, 4 minutes. As I watched the # of grams creep slowly, slowly upwards on that bag (yes, I'm one of those people that doesn't mind watching my blood bleed (normally quickly) slowly out of me). I realized it was going to take forever, so I settled in for the long haul. Cuddled my sweater, laid back, staring at the ceiling (the one time I didn't take a book with me!), imagining all the workers above... And then I started to feel nauseous. Normally that wouldn't bother me. I know I'm not going to puke, and usually when I start feeling nauseous after donating blood, I'm thisclose to finishing, so they can take the needle out, finish up, and then deal with my physical issues. Not this time. After only about 250 grams (out of 500-something a person actually donates to create a unit), I started to feel sweaty and gross - a very good sign I'm about to pass out. I fought it for about 30 seconds, then signalled the nurse. We had to stop.
I realize that most of this is beyond my control, but I still feel guilty whenever I can't manage to donate blood. I feel like I've wasted the time of the nurses/staff on duty, and I feel like there's something wrong with me that I'm not strong enough to do it. Completely irrational, I know, but such is the way things work inside my head.
10 minutes, some cold compresses, and a juice box later, I was feeling fine and was about to be back on my feet. At that point, though, a coworker and another staff member walked by (as I was finishing up recovery), and asked about the staff member I mentioned at the beginning of this post. I pointed him out and it suddenly dawned on me that he was actually still there. Turns out the poor guy had not only passed out when he finished donating, but also passed out a second time when they tried to sit him up. He was out of commission for the rest of the day - sent home in a cab to his waiting girlfriend.
So on the downside - no blood donation. On the upside, extra long lunch hour for me!
Yesterday also marked my last dayon my old assignment. I moved my stuff into my new office yesterday afternoon, which was super fun, especially when trying not to use my left arm (no lifting after a blood donation, remember!). There are several pros and cons to this whole new office thing.
Pros: new team to mold to my evil ways, new office with actual walls up to the ceiling, door, and privacy!, new challenge and new learning opportunities
Cons: new team that may not mold to my evil ways, no natural light, no window to gaze out, and my old team with all their humour and hard work does not get to follow me down to the cave (as I'm affectionately calling my new office - it's in the basement, but it's brand new and absolutely lovely).
So all in all, as I've said in other forums, it was a mediocre day.
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