JMR battles the Bloodmobile - and loses (cookies!)

The hell with surviving Hurricane Katrina, I survived GIVING BLOOD! Ok, that was tasteless, but I needed to make a point. I'm extremely lightheaded now so anything I say, can, and will be used against me at a later date, I'm sure.

I aced the usual medical history paperwork, blood pressure, iron and weight checks. Funny, weight, like me pushing 110 lbs. was going to be an issue. Ha! The one thing that always trips me up is temperature. Apparently, to give blood, you must have a body temperature of 99.5 or under. Today, I temped at 99.4. I've tried to give blood three times now and each time, my temperature has been 100 or better. I must just naturally be one hot mama. (stop laughing) The one nurse gave me a grape juice box while I was doing my paperwork to help bring my body temperature down in case I was close. He was right, I was close. Or the temperature nurse lied and let me slide in under the radar at 99.4. In any case, I was a mosquito's wet dream. I was ready.

The initial drain was easy and quick. I've got a good flow. I filled my unit in less than 5 minutes. I squeezed the little world stress ball and was feeling pretty damn proud of myself. I was helping mankind. I was a giver. Yay me!

When all was said and done, I left the blood bus and sat at the table, resting for the instructed 5 minutes, picking through the bowl of Oreos, Nutter Butters and Lorna Doones. I grabbed a bottle of water and was on my way. As I was making my way up the slight incline to the campus center, I was getting short of breath and a little lightheaded. No problem, JMR, this is normal. As I entered the building, I was experiencing tunnel vision and was for sure going down if I didn't find a place to sit, and quick! Enter Pav's office.

I b-lined to his office because it was the closest, and for me, the most comfortable place on campus for me to do what I was about to do next.

Pav: Hey, you ok?
Me: Give me your trashcan, NOW!
Pav: Uh oh. (pulls can out from under desk)
Me: Braaaaarrraallllffffffffffffff, ack, ack, rrrrraallllffffff
Pav: Uhhhhhh, oh, oh.
Me: Ack, you might want to leave.
Pav: I think I will. (shuts door behind him)

Three minutes later he comes back in while I was clutching his trashcan like I had just found a long lost beloved pet. I was soaking wet, white as a sheet and shaking like a heroin addict in rehab. So much for my grape juice box. It now covered any and all papers that were in Pav's trash. Thank God for Pav. I couldn't have done what I did in just anyone's office. Only Pav's office would suffice. He's such a good sport and gave me the added humorous anecdotes to make the whole experience worthwhile. He even drove me across campus back to my office so I wouldn't have to walk.

So there you have it. I was able to give blood, somewhat successfully. Pav, on the other hand, got the short end of the stick. Fortunately for him, he was leaving work early, thus giving ample time for the regurgitated grape juice smell to dissipate from his office. At least I tied up his trashbag for the maintenance crew.