Before Scott and I were married, we were what you call, broke as heeeell (in my best Madea voice) Scott has an excellent job with the state and being at the top of his grade, he is paid very well however, when you divorce a woman as complicated as advanced college calculus, a good attorney cost a lot! Then there’s the other court costs and fees where he fought for custody and child support. Yeah.. so as I was saying… we were buuuuuuuuusted!!
One day I brought up how some people in my family use to donate plasma when I was a kid so they could buy cigarettes and gas.
Scott and I found a plasma center in the next town over and decided to give it a go. It wasn’t as bad as I expected when I walked in. It was clean and professional looking. The center did have a lot of freaky looking people in the waiting area which made having to fill out a crap-ton of paperwork and waiting three hours go by faster. Got plenty of good laughs.
The screening process for plasma donation is crazy. As I said, there was a phonebook thick packet of paperwork to fill out, then a small physical and then discussions about every tattoo and body piercing I had as the man scribbled their placements on a poorly drawn outline of a person on a sheet of paper. When all was said and done, my outline looked like a forensic report from a crime scene. Really? My tattoos came across as wounds from a prison shanking?
My husband was called back first but came back out before I even had a chance to be called. He apparently had a fever that he didn’t know about. He wasn’t sick, didn’t feel bad..he was fine but ok-
Then I was called back. Nerves fluttered inside my belly as I made my way through to the donation chair. As I sat down I took a look around at the other broke as hells. Everyone was either reading or listening to their ipods. They seemed ok as they danced their feet back and forth. My nurse guy came over and began to explain the process as he wiped my skin with an alcohol swab. A small poke and some tape and all was good.
I sat there content looking around then glanced at my arm. The catheter in my vein was hooked up to tubing that was hooked up to two spinning cylinders that sucked blood from my body like some kind of mechanical vampire. It was pretty cool to watch the machine pause then separate my whole blood into blood and plasma. I was doing ok until the machine started sucking again. I saw my blood slowly fill the tube and I got all cold and clammy. As the sweat bead up on my face I became dizzy – my nurse guy came over and asked if I was ok and I said, “Nope. I don’t feel well.” The next thing I know, he is unhooking me from the tubes and another nurse lady start putting ice on my head, neck and lower back. Then they’re both telling me to move my feet. Move my feet? Why the hell do I want to move my feet? I don’t want to move my feet I want to not throw up… like, can you get me a twinkie or some juice, damn?!?!
I felt better after the nurse guy hooked my other arm up so the bionic vampire could regurgitate my fluids back into my body. When I wobbled out into the waiting room where my husband sat he said I looked as white as a ghost. I told him I think I fainted hahahaha Scott said he knew something was going on when everyone in the back started buzzing like angry bees.
Hahahha oh well. Shit happens and guess what? They still gave me my money… that’s right, momma got paid.