Woozy
The morning started off w/ such promise. I didn’t need to hit snooze, I heard some Dropkick Murphy’s, and it was a pretty good hair day (if I do say so myself). Before I headed out, I loaded the crock pot up with this mouth-watering french toast recipe I pinned last night, visions of cinnamon and brown sugar dancing in my head.
It was a super packed train, which was nothing out of the ordinary. I had just started a new book, and it was entertaining enough; until I got the part about the syringe full of blood. I closed the book immediately, but it was too late.
I started overheating and had to unzip my coat and take off my scarf. It wasn’t enough and I started sweating profusely. I held on tight to a pole, knowing my vision would go next. On cue, it became all spotty and blurred. I tried to read the Kindle next to me, just to have something to focus on, but it was impossible to see clearly. I was still four stops away from my station with no chance of sitting down. Kill me.
I hate being a cliche. I don’t know when words like “blood” and “needle” started to turn my stomach, but they do it to me every time. I don’t like tight, cramped quarters to begin with, so being on public transit doesn’t help when the nausea sets in.
Back in college, I was happy to help every time there was a blood drive. My parents were big supporters of donating blood, and it seemed the Red Cross was always calling our house to confirm their next appointment.
One summer, I scheduled to give on my lunch break during my internship. Back then, I never ate breakfast (does anyone between the ages of 15-25?) When I went to give blood, I was immediately light-headed. They had to stop midway through, and I was rolled over behind a curtain where someone gave me apple juice and sat with me until the color returned in my face. I was sweating all over and thought I’d be red-faced and ruddy, but when I went to the bathroom I was white as a sheet.
I haven’t been able to donate since. I tried one time after that, and every second felt like an hour. I had to ask a volunteer to stay and talk to me b/c I couldn’t be left alone w/ that needle in my arm. I know it’s a mental thing, but once it’s in there, it’s all I can focus on. The dizziness sets in soon after that.
Any suggestions, friends? I HATE not being in control, and to be honest, it’s pretty damn scary.
Almost as scary as the annual Kardashian Kristmas Kard.
Just look at poor Bruce. Something must have been pretty scary on the set of that shoot. Oh wait, that’s just how he always looks.
It was a super packed train, which was nothing out of the ordinary. I had just started a new book, and it was entertaining enough; until I got the part about the syringe full of blood. I closed the book immediately, but it was too late.
I started overheating and had to unzip my coat and take off my scarf. It wasn’t enough and I started sweating profusely. I held on tight to a pole, knowing my vision would go next. On cue, it became all spotty and blurred. I tried to read the Kindle next to me, just to have something to focus on, but it was impossible to see clearly. I was still four stops away from my station with no chance of sitting down. Kill me.
I hate being a cliche. I don’t know when words like “blood” and “needle” started to turn my stomach, but they do it to me every time. I don’t like tight, cramped quarters to begin with, so being on public transit doesn’t help when the nausea sets in.
Back in college, I was happy to help every time there was a blood drive. My parents were big supporters of donating blood, and it seemed the Red Cross was always calling our house to confirm their next appointment.
One summer, I scheduled to give on my lunch break during my internship. Back then, I never ate breakfast (does anyone between the ages of 15-25?) When I went to give blood, I was immediately light-headed. They had to stop midway through, and I was rolled over behind a curtain where someone gave me apple juice and sat with me until the color returned in my face. I was sweating all over and thought I’d be red-faced and ruddy, but when I went to the bathroom I was white as a sheet.
I haven’t been able to donate since. I tried one time after that, and every second felt like an hour. I had to ask a volunteer to stay and talk to me b/c I couldn’t be left alone w/ that needle in my arm. I know it’s a mental thing, but once it’s in there, it’s all I can focus on. The dizziness sets in soon after that.
Any suggestions, friends? I HATE not being in control, and to be honest, it’s pretty damn scary.
Almost as scary as the annual Kardashian Kristmas Kard.
Just look at poor Bruce. Something must have been pretty scary on the set of that shoot. Oh wait, that’s just how he always looks.
Comments
Glad to know you made it safely off the train though. Also, fill me in on this french toast business.
Sorry I have nothing helpful to offer, it's never bothered me much. I guess you just have to slowly work your way back up to giving blood at a donation (cause they take a lot.) And never ever look while they do it.
Why is Scott in the card but not Kanye?
And yes, fill us in on the french toast thingy?
Thanks for your advice. I do want to donate in the future, so I will just have to build up to it...very sloooowly
@Sarah: I didn't know that about the fam (big surprise). It makes me feel better that it's not just me. Isn't being wheeled behind some makeshift curtain at a blood drive just the highlight of your day?
I just blogged about the french toast. I bet Brendan can figure out a way to make it not a soggy mess in the middle. Let me know if you guys try it!