Tags: red cross

Medieval Lady

Blergh, blergh, blergh

The thing about donating platelets is that I apparently have to discount the rest of the day, and just assume I'm going to be a slug. A slug that provides a nice warm lap for cats. Which, cats assure me, is a very important and necessary task.

(as long as I also periodically get up to feed cats, of course)

Cat: What are you doing on the computer? Why are you not petting cats? *pokey biscuits*
greeting, worm

Sometimes fiction intrudes on life

This morning, I went and donated platelets over at the Red Cross again Platelet donation,for folks who are unfamiliar with it means that you're donating specific blood components, not whole blood. They draw blood from one arm, spin it around through a machine, and put all the bits they're not using back into your other arm. The thing is, as part of the spinning process, they also have to put something in to prevent coagulation (platelets are the part that helps blood clot)... and it's cold. Or, at any rate, it makes you feel cold. Except that instead of feeling normal, external cold, like being outside on a cold day, or someplace with air conditioning, etc., it's internal. Which is a little bit weird, frankly, because there you are, and you're watching whatever DVD you've picked out (they say in the information that you can read during donation, but that's not exactly true, so much, because of the not being able to move your arms), and you're under blankets, and feeling this whisper of cold from the inside of your veins.

The experience becomes even weirder when you happen to be watching the scenes in "Fellowship of the Ring" where Frodo has gotten stabbed by the Morgul knife and is shivering his way into excessively-blue-eyed wraithdom.