We walk down the hallway and into the back, um, (bed)room. It's a room divided into three sections with each section having between 6 and 8 beds. Next to each bed is the plasma vampire machine. You're connected to this machine via the needle in your vein. It draws a certain amount (a pint maybe?) of blood into a little container, said container is spun, plasma separates from blood, plasma goes into collection bottle, and then your blood is returned via same needle. One entire time through that process is a cycle.
I go to my bed and pick which arm I want connecting me to the vampire machine. I go with my right, because during one of my blood draws in my last pregnancy the person trying to draw my blood spent about 15 minutes and 5 or 6 sticks trying to get a vein in my left arm. I gave her my right arm and she got it right away. Now, whenever I have blood drawn I offer up my right arm right away.
I lay down in my bed and the movable arm rest is placed under my right arm. The machine is on my left so the tube of blood runs across my body. I'm not really squeamish, but I still try not to look at it too much. I've been through two full cycles when they bring Husband back and put him in the bed next to me. I've got the container almost 2/3's full. I'm feeling fine, and glad to see Husband.
The difference between me and Husband is that my poor body has been through a lot of 'priming' for this. During my last C-section my doctor had to clean up an internal mess that the residents who did the second C-section left. I swear that she was elbow deep into my incision, and when I asked one of her students that was there how deep in me she actually was, he laughed. Pretty deep, although he did say she wasn't quite up to her elbow. I'm pretty sure that she was above where my epidural ended though. But anyway, you get the picture.
The extent of the bodily invasion that Husband has had is stitches. He has never had blood drawn or surgery or anything, well, worse than stitches. He was there for my C-Sections, but they put up a curtain so he couldn't really see anything. He isn't the greatest around blood. On a funnier note, his brother (who is a self designated ass hole) faints whenever he sees blood. He passed out when his dog got shots. We laugh every time we drive by that vet. Yeah, it's still funny every time.
Husband is connected to the machine next to me as I start my third cycle. I proudly show him all the plasma that my vampire machine has collected from me. We look at his plasma container. It has barely more than a spit of plasma. It was like the plasma vampire hocked a lugie into his plasma container. One of the techs takes a look at him and tells him that his blood is very thick. Okay. I really made sure that he was super hydrated, but whatever. We're wondering what will happen if he can't muster up enough plasma to meet his quota. We're pretty sure it means that he wont get paid. I look away from Husband for a minute to check my own container that I am proudly filling quite well, and then I look back at husband. Except I don't see Husband. I see the back of the paramedic standing next to husband and several other techs standing around him. Now I'm freaked out. I know all the Little League Mom's love him, but he's never been too magnetic to medical personal. Something must be wrong with him. The medic is asking him a series of questions about what he ate and whatever, I kinda stopped comprehending at this point, just trying to keep him conscious. His face is completely white. He has no color at all. You know the song A Whiter Shade of Pale? I never really got that song until right at that moment.
Seeing Husband in such a state, I begin to sweat. Then I get that feeling...you know the one...your body is telling you that you have two options in this moment: Puke or Pass Out. And I'm telling my body, no no no, neither. I have to stay conscious for Husband and I can't puke all over myself here in front of people. Everyone is paying attention to Husband so they don't notice my predicament right away. (They're really good at keeping an eye on people and knowing when they don't look right) I call out to a tech who starts to tell me just a minute (because she is on her way to get something for Husband) and then she sees me, pale faced and covered in sweat. I ask her if she can turn down the machine, and she does. She tells the Medic that I'm having issues too, and the medic did the most awesome thing. She gave me a long flat ice pack across my middle. Wow. That really felt better. She still dragged the garbage can over, just in case. I had a few glasses of some nasty water, and recovered pretty quick, without puking or passing out. Phew. I'm just about at the end of my third cycle. Someone asks me if I want to do my last cycle, and even though I don't, I say that I will. I was worried that I wouldn't get my full $25 if I didn't finish. Turns out, if you get sick, you still get your full amount of money. One of the techs told me this, and not to worry about, and then she took me off the vampire machine.
Back to Husband, who also has not gone into shock, and seems to be almost recovered. They have to stick him in the other arm to put his blood back in him.
We're both disconnected and sent over to the waiting area. There is a fridge with Capri Sun and peanut butter cracker sandwiches. Gross, but at this point we had been there over four hours and we were both starving. Peanut butter crackers it is then.
We knew I was going to get paid, but we weren't sure about Husband. He hadn't even contributed anything. My name is called, I go to the window to collect my $25, and then I sit back down to wait and see if they call Husband's name. They do. Phew. He gets $25 for his good try. They tell us the soonest we can come back is Tuesday. We're allowed to come back even though we both got sick. Another sigh of relief.
On a side note, apparently when you get sick it pisses off the 'regulars' because it takes the techs away from them when they get their long awaited three beeps saying their donation is complete. While Husband was in the worst part of his little ordeal one of the regulars finished, and he is yelling to the tech that he was done, repeatedly. She finally turned to him and told him that he was just going to have to wait because someone was sick, and he would want her to be taking care of him if he got sick. Douche Bag. Then the guy across from us (with his name sticker stuck on his face under his eye, like he thought he was cute) told one of the techs, with a big smile on his face, that he was sick and needed her. Douche Bag Jr. I'll have to save all of the characters there for another post though.
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