Symmetrical Bloodletting

I went to donate blood at UCLA in Westwood today.  I'd say my motives were entirely virtuous, as when I donated in Massachusetts, but through UCLA employees get four hours of comp time for each donation.  So for every four months one essentially gets another day off, if one donates as often as possible.

But for some reason my comp time slips get mailed back to me.  I decided to inquire about it this time and they let me check my earnings statement online to make sure I was getting my alotted comp time.  I believe I still am, but I'll look into it further later.

Then when I got through with my history and physical, and got to a bed, they asked me which arm I'd like to use this time.  I almost always use my right arm, but I felt like leaving it up to her, "I'll defer to your opinion," I replied.  We both decided to give the left arm a try this time, so she looked for a vein.  She chose one that was invisible to my eyes, but that she could feel as being quite large, so she used that one.

Once she assembled the bag and swabbed me with iodine, she stuck the needle in my left arm, apologizing in advance for the slight prick I'd feel.  I appeared to be doing fine at first and then the little test pouch (that they collect for the sample tubes) just wasn't filling up.  So, I asked if she could perhaps try another vein and she shook her head nervously with a stiff smile.  After a minute or two we both realized that she thought I meant "could we try another spot in that vein."  Both of us relieved, her for realizing she didn't have a foolhardy and reckless donor, and me because I could still donate, save three lives, and get my half-a-day off, she started to prep a clean bag while she asked me what color bandage I'd like on my arms to match with my colorful Cambridge Fringe Fest (Massachusetts defunct alt-comedy festival, not the more famous Fringe Festival that serves as a counterpart to Edingburgh's) shirt.  

I decided to go with red and blue, so I asked for red on my left arm.  But as she started on my right arm I changed my mind.  I remembered what my dad told me about aircraft navigation lights and decided a good counterpart to red on my port arm would be green on my starboard arm.  I'll take pictures later, but for now just picture me in bell-bottom jeans from the Army-Navy store on Newbury Street, boots that go just above the ankle from DSW, red-and-white striped socks from Old Navy, a Cambridge Fringe Fest shirt from 2003 with a hole in it (which I won by answering what Derek Gerry was referencing in a joke of his--for the curious: Hunter S. Thompson), and bandages on either arm signaling fellow nighttime pilots as to which direction I'm coming from.  If you look at me from behind however, I look like the Italian flag.

All told, the visit to the clinic lasted roughly two hours, quite a bit longer than usual.

Also, anyone in the area who wants to donate platelets before August 30th can do so and enter to win a MacBook.