When I was 17, I gave blood for the first time, the needle slipped out of my veins halfway through the process and I fainted twice after all was said and done. Later when I tried to donate plasma (different I know), I started to bleed out of the needle halfway through the process and ended up with one gigantic bruise up and down my arm. Then I got Lyme disease when I lived in Virginia and that process proceeded with me being pricked and prodded about 8 times just in the Emergency Room (mostly because my veins collapsed and they had to try both arms, wait for shift changes). Then came the tiny needle where they had to put an iv drip in and the women who put it in was a viperous snake who got a kick out of my pain when she was doing it. Then there were the follow up appointments - not to mention the other part of having the Lyme disease and the location of my bulls eye rash and how that whole drama played out. Needless to say, this has not made it any easier for me to love the process of giving blood for whatever the reason.
However, I sucked it up, I told the attendant my concerns, she got the needle in without any problems, the process was smooth - it went quickly enough, and just when I thought I was going to get away with no bruising, she realized as she was taking it out that she put it in the wrong place and I still ended up with a huge bruise on my arm! My complaining about this ceased however, when a very dear friend of mine from community theater informed me of how many units she's had to get for treatments in the last few years. At that moment, every bruise was worth it!
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