being part of the 3% of the population is hard

My big goal of February was to donate blood. I came back from the ordeal. Obviously I'm OK...since I'm typing away. But I am going to throw a temper tantrum. Sally got to see my first one when she picked me up-- I burst into tears as I babbled about the experience. My mom and Tina/Gene experienced it via telephone (a more subdued version). I shall throw my last temper tantrum via blog. Perhaps exaggerate and add some drama.

This blog entry is going to take forever to write because of my band-aid. Apparently, three out of 100 Americans donate blood. I bragged to Suah that I was going to be part of 3%...not 97%. I like how the sticker they gave me says "I make a difference," rather than "I made a difference."

So I went into the private little cubicle for my mini-physical. I miscalculated when I had traveled to Korea and Japan when she asked if I had been out of the US/Canada in the last twelve months. When she entered that I had gone to Korea...a malaria alert (for SOUTH KOREA) popped up. She said due to risk of malaria, I couldn't give blood. I keep forgetting S. Korea is so ghetto.... bahs. I told her I misspoke and that it had been more than thirteen months. She gave me a stern look and asked if I was 100% sure. I told her I was 100% positive.

So that was a minor hurdle. The major hurdle was...according to the "nurse," the size of the "veins I brought" her. She gave up on my right arm quickly. Then she searched for a vein on my left arm. She looked worried and then saw my panic. She said, "Honey, it's not that you don't have veins...it's just that they're tiny!" She brought another woman for a "second opinion" and they discussed the state of my veins without taking into consideration that I could hear their discussion. I especially did not appreciate when she said to the other woman, "I might want to try this one...but it's the size of the needle." Um...I have a high threshold for pain (people who give me facials always tell me so), but like Sally, once you express something I can visualize, I go nuts. Panic set in.

I wanted to shout, "I don't need to make a difference! I don't want to! Let me out!" But I just closed my eyes shut as she inserted the needle into my vein. (Later my mom and Gene told me that it probably wasn't my vein that was problematic...but the "nurse's" lack of expertise at finding veins...and unfamiliarity with Asian ppl's bodies). I think she used a bad vein. After awhile, the blood didn't seem to flow out...so she added a lot of pressure to my arm...to squeeze my blood-juice out like an orange. Yuck. I totally felt like an orange.

The last time I gave blood was when I was a junior in high school (7-8 years ago!). I fainted. Back then I had a "high school sweetheart" who came and held my hand as I laid there like an invalid. I was horrified that I had fainted...but also horrified that he was there because I had not washed my hair that day. I remember that feeling of shame so well. Minor detour. Funny how that is one of my fondest memories of that year.

After I was done, the woman escorted me...but I became faint. She let me lay down and put a brown paper bag over my mouth. After awhile, I was totally fine. But it was such an emotionally overwhelming experience. Just because of that one phrase..."the size of the needle." VOM.


I called Sally and asked her to pick me up at the law school. I sat on the steps...and out came Judith and Tad. It was so nice to see familiar faces. They worried about me and told me to go inside since it was cold. But I stayed outside...and when Sally came, I jumped into the car...and burst into tears!

That is all.

great thing about being single: None.

sad thing about being single: no one holds your hand when you're throwing a temper tantrum...!