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Mar. 17th, 2008 01:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
commotiocordisBlood donation. This was a fun saga. I got asked to do it by the teacher that runs the Saturday Scholars (fake!minimed) because the people that were supposed to did a crap job of promoting it and so practically nobody was signed up. Plus, I asked my econ teacher about these “professional development” points we had to have (50 per quarter—I’ve never even gotten close to that number, but last quarter I only got 15, which hurt my grade, so I’m trying to make up for it this quarter) and she said she’d give us 5 for donating. Never hurts to ask was the lesson there, even if it is only 5 out of the . . . 85 or so that I need to cover this quarter’s number and last quarter’s deficit (because I think we can do that—I know you can pay points forward, I’m not sure if it works the same way backwards, but methinks it should).
Anyway, I was planning to go during English class (because I forgot we had weirdo triple reading over the weekend and barely finished—even though I totally half-assed the second half of it—the uberlong double helping of To The Lighthouse, totally forgetting that he’d tacked on “Mr. Bennett and Mrs. Brown”), but Character Council had a meeting then, so I got out of English anyway. Got to talk for a bit in there about the abortion protesters that were outside the school on Friday and sort of set people straight—whatever I may feel about the issue, and however poorly they may have chosen to present their side (they had posters with graphic dead, cut-up babies on them outside a school), they were perfectly within their rights to do so. They were careful to stay on public land, and from everything I saw were perfectly respectful to everybody—which is much, much more than I can say for everyone towards them. Was tagged to be one of the people that helps when the national character evaluator peoples come around in April because the asst. principal in charge of it knows/likes me, which is cool. And the head principal (who came to the Saturday Scholars presentations over the weekend, which was nice of him) pulled me forward for having done that and made everybody clap, which was not necessary but smile-worthy all the same.
So that was that. Worked on this econ project in AII, almost finishing that up (because I didn’t know how much my partner ended up planning on doing, so I just did everything I could for it in the time that I had—we ended up partially doubling on one thing, but most of the project hadn’t been done until I did it, so twas a good thing).
Then biology. We were just finishing a lab I’d already gotten done (with much time to spare) last week, so that wasn’t a big deal. Though I think we may have a test tomorrow, so must ask about that. Anyway. This is when I went to do the blood donating stuffs.
I get down there, sign in, wait around a bit, spell my name, tell the lady my weight, give her my social security number, etc. We move on to pulse. She takes it. Calls another lady over to check. Evidently, mine was too low. This is weirdness, but I feel it and she’s right. I sort of pump it up a little bit with my mind, and it’s up enough to be okay by the time the second lady takes it, so we’re past that hurdle. Still. Idk how to feel about having a resting pulse of 48 (and not even that resting—I’d been sitting for a few minutes, but before that had walked across campus through the nastycoldwet that is the current weather); I don’t think my workouts are enough to make my heart that good, LOL.
She found my blood pressure to be significantly higher than the last two times I’ve taken it (though admittedly, I was about to get blood sucked out of my arm, so perhaps with reason), but I wasn’t so sure about the number she got. You can feel the point when your artery opens and closes and the blood flow is stopped/resumes, you know? And I was looking at the sphygmo, like I always do, and I don’t think it was that high when I felt it. Plus, with the issues that later came to light, it made even less sense. (Note how I totally avoid spoiling you here in order to maintain the suspense.)
Now comes the finger-prick float test for hemoglobin. This is the one that I was most worried about failing, because I don’t get a whole lot of iron in my regular diet. Red meat’s got too many calories for my comfort—I’m a fish and poultry kind of girl when it comes to meat, but egg whites if you give me a choice of protein, so not much there. I’d been stocking up, though; Mum donates platelets all the time, so she’s got iron pills that she takes for a few days before she goes, and I’d been doing the same. The lady had some trouble getting me to bleed enough (portent #1) and had to do much squeezage of the finger to get enough blood up the little tube to drop it in the solution, but when she did, it dropped like a rock. Well, not quite like a rock. It was still kind of slow, but it went straight down (none of this “within 15 seconds” stuff) and didn’t come back up. I was impressed with myself.
And then there is movage to the little cot. Where I hang out. It’s the period in which everybody takes their lunch (which I missed entirely due to this endeavor, so I’m significantly peckish right now) so we’re shuffling blood-taking people around and going on breaks and such. It took a while there. They didn’t like the antecubital on my right arm, and though they were going to try to stick it anyway, I could tell that the (different) lady didn’t think she could make it, so I sucked it up and gave her my left, which has a better AC. More waiting, preparation stuff, the stick (which wasn’t that bad). Wiggling of the needle, bad. But then it was taped on and I was good. Except I kept trying to cross my legs, which evidently is not allowed. And that the lady was a bitch—she explained nothing about what I was supposed to be doing/what was going on (the latter being something which I think we’ve established I’ve got problems with), and then sniped at me when I moved my arm around too much after she marked the vein (scraping my arm hard enough with the pen to draw blood while doing so, btw) and later when I wasn’t or was squeezing the ball when I was/wasn’t supposed to. I was all “Okay, then how about you tell me what you want me to do rather than have me guess at it all?”
This is le part one. The busses are here, so tis time to be with the leaving for home (and lunch). Will resume later (prolly evening, because I was up too late with the dog last night trying to get him to shut up and take his medicine and not pee on the floor and thus need significant quantities of nap).
Anyway, I was planning to go during English class (because I forgot we had weirdo triple reading over the weekend and barely finished—even though I totally half-assed the second half of it—the uberlong double helping of To The Lighthouse, totally forgetting that he’d tacked on “Mr. Bennett and Mrs. Brown”), but Character Council had a meeting then, so I got out of English anyway. Got to talk for a bit in there about the abortion protesters that were outside the school on Friday and sort of set people straight—whatever I may feel about the issue, and however poorly they may have chosen to present their side (they had posters with graphic dead, cut-up babies on them outside a school), they were perfectly within their rights to do so. They were careful to stay on public land, and from everything I saw were perfectly respectful to everybody—which is much, much more than I can say for everyone towards them. Was tagged to be one of the people that helps when the national character evaluator peoples come around in April because the asst. principal in charge of it knows/likes me, which is cool. And the head principal (who came to the Saturday Scholars presentations over the weekend, which was nice of him) pulled me forward for having done that and made everybody clap, which was not necessary but smile-worthy all the same.
So that was that. Worked on this econ project in AII, almost finishing that up (because I didn’t know how much my partner ended up planning on doing, so I just did everything I could for it in the time that I had—we ended up partially doubling on one thing, but most of the project hadn’t been done until I did it, so twas a good thing).
Then biology. We were just finishing a lab I’d already gotten done (with much time to spare) last week, so that wasn’t a big deal. Though I think we may have a test tomorrow, so must ask about that. Anyway. This is when I went to do the blood donating stuffs.
I get down there, sign in, wait around a bit, spell my name, tell the lady my weight, give her my social security number, etc. We move on to pulse. She takes it. Calls another lady over to check. Evidently, mine was too low. This is weirdness, but I feel it and she’s right. I sort of pump it up a little bit with my mind, and it’s up enough to be okay by the time the second lady takes it, so we’re past that hurdle. Still. Idk how to feel about having a resting pulse of 48 (and not even that resting—I’d been sitting for a few minutes, but before that had walked across campus through the nastycoldwet that is the current weather); I don’t think my workouts are enough to make my heart that good, LOL.
She found my blood pressure to be significantly higher than the last two times I’ve taken it (though admittedly, I was about to get blood sucked out of my arm, so perhaps with reason), but I wasn’t so sure about the number she got. You can feel the point when your artery opens and closes and the blood flow is stopped/resumes, you know? And I was looking at the sphygmo, like I always do, and I don’t think it was that high when I felt it. Plus, with the issues that later came to light, it made even less sense. (Note how I totally avoid spoiling you here in order to maintain the suspense.)
Now comes the finger-prick float test for hemoglobin. This is the one that I was most worried about failing, because I don’t get a whole lot of iron in my regular diet. Red meat’s got too many calories for my comfort—I’m a fish and poultry kind of girl when it comes to meat, but egg whites if you give me a choice of protein, so not much there. I’d been stocking up, though; Mum donates platelets all the time, so she’s got iron pills that she takes for a few days before she goes, and I’d been doing the same. The lady had some trouble getting me to bleed enough (portent #1) and had to do much squeezage of the finger to get enough blood up the little tube to drop it in the solution, but when she did, it dropped like a rock. Well, not quite like a rock. It was still kind of slow, but it went straight down (none of this “within 15 seconds” stuff) and didn’t come back up. I was impressed with myself.
And then there is movage to the little cot. Where I hang out. It’s the period in which everybody takes their lunch (which I missed entirely due to this endeavor, so I’m significantly peckish right now) so we’re shuffling blood-taking people around and going on breaks and such. It took a while there. They didn’t like the antecubital on my right arm, and though they were going to try to stick it anyway, I could tell that the (different) lady didn’t think she could make it, so I sucked it up and gave her my left, which has a better AC. More waiting, preparation stuff, the stick (which wasn’t that bad). Wiggling of the needle, bad. But then it was taped on and I was good. Except I kept trying to cross my legs, which evidently is not allowed. And that the lady was a bitch—she explained nothing about what I was supposed to be doing/what was going on (the latter being something which I think we’ve established I’ve got problems with), and then sniped at me when I moved my arm around too much after she marked the vein (scraping my arm hard enough with the pen to draw blood while doing so, btw) and later when I wasn’t or was squeezing the ball when I was/wasn’t supposed to. I was all “Okay, then how about you tell me what you want me to do rather than have me guess at it all?”
This is le part one. The busses are here, so tis time to be with the leaving for home (and lunch). Will resume later (prolly evening, because I was up too late with the dog last night trying to get him to shut up and take his medicine and not pee on the floor and thus need significant quantities of nap).
