It's Not In Me To Give Anymore ...

So Andrew, Janie and I donated blood last night. All day I'd been feeling a bit queasy at the thought of needles and my own blood, but I really pulled myself together and I didn't even flich when they gave me the finger-pin-prick thing. It was going to be ok.

Until ...

Male Nurse looks at my chart and says 'An-eek-a?' and I corrected him 'A-nick-a.' 'Oh, like Annikin Skywalker? Haha, but I guess you get that all the time.' Yes, asamatteroffact. I. Do. I should have seen this as a bad omen and ran the other way. But once again I pulled myself together.

Until ...

Male Nurse told me to take a deep breath because he was going to stab me with the needle now (he didn't say it in as many words, though). And stab he did. I bit my lip and took deep breaths while Male Nurse wondered out loud 'now where'd that vein go? ... Lemme try again ... Maybe the needle got some flesh stuck in it ...' Finally he quit stabbing around my arm when I offered my other arm as a sacrifice.

This time I got a nurse who was nice and got my name right and rolled her eyes at the other guy and gave me a sticker.

And I got cookies!