The Vampire Machine: my fun with plasma donation

So, instead of working on the 10 page and 3 page paper that is due tomorrow (don’t worry, it’s already written out in my head. It’s just a matter of sitting down and typing it out. Piece of cake. Really.) I decided to give plasma today. I thought it was a lot of fun, if you think sitting around with a needle the size of a soda straw in your arm is fun. But I did get paid for it, so it wasn’t too bad. I must confess the money was also why I went, at least at first. When I got to the plasma donation center, there were pictures of adorable little kids all over the place, and signs telling me that when I give my plasma, I am saving their life. They looked remarkably healthy to me, but I’m sure the signs don’t lie. I don’t know if they pictures worked on anyone else there, but it worked on me! They were so cute! I wanted to take them all home and take care of them and give them tea….and then I realized that I was starting to sound like my sister, so I will stop now.

 

Anyway, for those of you who have never donated plasma, the process is quite simple. Your first time there they will interrogate you about all the things you have never (or at least should have never) done. They ask you if you have ever had HIV, STD’s, BVD’s that sort of thing. Then they will ask if you’ve ever had any relations with people from certain countries, or have ever “done the deed” for money or drugs, etc. They want to make sure that the people that donate are generally healthy and clean. I doubt you can get much cleaner than me.

 

First of all, they would ask me if I’ve ever “had relations” with a man since 1977. Questions like that really throw me off. Not that I can’t remember! It’s just I get so nervous wanting to be sure I answer correctly, that my brain freezes up. When the guy asked me that question, that was one of the times my brain decided to freeze up. The pause must have been longer than he was expecting, because he stopped staring out the window with a bored look on his face and glanced at me instead. I quickly said “no”, but now I’m not sure if he believed me. I’m paranoid like that. Anyway, then he asked me a list of acts and wanted me to tell him Yes or No if I thought they were considered characteristics of High Risk Living (they just want to be sure I REALLY understand what it means to live dangerously. For those of you who know me, High Risk living is pretty much the opposite of what I do). So, he asks me questions again like, Doing drugs, sharing needles, men having relations with men, etc etc. to which I was to answer Yes, because those are considered High Risk living. Half way through the list, my heart skipped a beat as I panicked and thought, “Wait, what if he’s really asked me if these are things that I am doing? Errrrrg! Which is it??!!” And people wonder why I am so jumpy.

 

Anyway, after several question sessions and a finger poke to test my blood (it’s 85% Coffee, which I knew already), one of the nurses mentioned that the next step would be the physical,and then I could start giving plasma.  Instant panic again. My mind raced. What kind of physical? OHNO! Is it THAT kind? Ew, when did I shower last? I looked around, and all I could see were several large and mean looking women nurses stomping around with rubber gloves on. Their hands looked three times as big as they should be. I gulped. Fortunately, the physical was just the aforementioned bored doctor checking my vitals. So then I finally was able to go back to the benches and get hooked up to the plasma machine. It was worth the wait, let me tell you. (yes, that was meant to be sarcastic.) However, the nurses in the back were very nice and cute, which are my two main requirements for nurses. Skill level is really not that important. I always figure what a nurse lacks in skill, she can make up for in enthusiasm.  

The plasma machine is really remarkable, I think. After they stick the biggest needle in the world in your arm, the machine sucks out your blood, swishes it around in a bucket so all the plasma drains into a bag, and then it spits your plasma-free blood back into your body. Then it does it again, usually about 9-10 times. It reminded of some kind of cross between a vampire and a wine tasting party. The whole process takes about an hour, and during that time you can read, talk on your cell phone, watch a movie, play on your computer, whatever. You just can’t go to sleep, eat or drink, which are my 3 favorite things to do. This place I went to in Ames is really nice, because you can check out mini dvd players, they have free wireless internet and they even have a contest going where you can win a free Plasma TV (the pun is intended, I’m sure). The tv looked nice, but I wasn’t sure what I would do with it if I won it. I’m betting I could get a good price for that off of Ebay….

  

I was kind of dizzy when it was all over, but that quickly went away. Honestly, it was not that bad at all, and I did not regret coming in. Well, about 10 minutes into the procedure I did regret all the water I drank before I came in. It didn’t help much that the plasma in my bag looked a lot like urine, too. I decided that next time I came I was going to wear a diaper.

 

You may wonder why I decided to do this. I mean, I hate needles and getting shots and all that stuff. Sure there’s money involved, but only about $60 a week, and that’s if I go twice in a week. (Twenty the first time, and forty the 2^nd). Well, let’s see, I get to lay down in a fairly quiet room, no kids to take care of, no one bugging me on the phone, I get to read, I get to save the lives of millions of people, I get fussed over by beautiful nurses, AND I get paid for it? I am beginning to wonder if I could donate plasma forty hours a week, because that sounds like my idea of a full-time job! I entertained myself imagining me walking around just skin and bones after my first full week of plasma donation. Ok, you can only give twice a week, I know, but it was still a funny mental picture!

 

In the end, I’m gonna go back on Thursday. Got me some lives to save! I wonder if doggie plasma could be used on humans? Would they be able to tell the difference? Hey Rosie! Come here….