Plasma and Pretty Boy

Today started like any other ordinary day. I had goals that needed to be achieved; the gym, grocery store, learning the muscles of the eye and plasma center.

Plasma center? This wonderful place is a college town phenomenon. Here you can donate your blood's plasma twice a week and get paid anywhere from 20-40 dollars a pop. Consider it a good cause with an incentive. I have been meaning to get in there and go through the initial process, but haven't found time. I was also intimidated by the long lines that formed outside the center in the mornings. Today I made time and conquered my fears, and what an experience it was.

When I described the process to my mother a few months ago she responded as if I was going to sell a part of my soul. Am I that desperate for money? The answer is no, I don't need the money per-say BUT why not? I cannot sacrifice hours to a part time job, but I can sacrifice 45 minutes. I just can't pass up the idea of making money with little time or effort.

Plasma is simply the "water" part of your blood. The process is similar to when you donate blood, except with plasma donations your blood is returned to you. The donor is hooked up to a machine. The machine goes through a series of "draw" and "return". When the machine is in "draw" mode, blood is taken from the patient. The blood is spun in the machine at a high velocity which separates the blood cells from the plasma. The machine then kicks into "return" mode where the red blood cells are returned to the patient, and the plasma drains into a collection bottle. The steps then repeat until the desired amount of plasma is achieved. They base how much plasma to take from a donor based upon weight class.

How fast the process goes depends on the patient's level of hydration; the more hydrated the better. The body replaces all the plasma in the body within 3-4 hours after the donation. How quickly the body recovers is also linked to hydration.

Sooooo. I did it. The doors opened at 8am and I was waiting in line outside the center. They had a separate line for new donors, and I didn't bat an eye when they informed me the process may take up to 4 hours. I figured their screening and questioning process was going to be thorough. And thorough it was.

I had to pee in a cup- wait for the results, show my social security card, prove my Greenville residency, get my finger pricked, blood pressure checked, temperature taken, read legal documents, take a test on the AID's virus and do jumping jacks. Jumping jacks? Yes... my blood pressure was almost below the set limit. They apologized for punishing me for being "too healthy".

In addition I had a meeting with the medical supervisor where he further explained the risks, and asked more questions regarding medical history, sexual and drug activity, and overseas contact. During the meeting I signed my life away vanishing all chances of suing the plasma center, and ensuring them the right to sue me if any of my answers proved false.

FINALLY I made it to the backroom. As I walked into the back room my eyes were met by individuals comfortably staring into space. It was clear that all of my fellow donors had done this before and were accustomed to the wait. I was directed to report to a chair in section 5. This chair is a mix between a lazy-boy recliner and a hospital bed, with built in support to raise the legs. The chairs and machines lined the white walls, and in the middle were workers in navy blue lab coats with movable carts. Apparently each employee was assigned a section and manned the section with his or her cart.

I sat in my assigned seat and waited for further instructions. I spotted a very nice looking male in a navy coat across the room. Yes, he was "fearfully and wonderfully made". Other girls would defer from him because he was obviously vertically challenged but that is not a problem for me. Now imagine how enthralled I was when this male started wheeling his cart towards my seat. What luck! Please note he was even better looking up close. His eyes where wow stunning, melt-me blue with long dark lashes. My father would probably call him a "pretty boy", and I would have to agree.

Unknown to me, a sign had been placed above my head, letting everyone know that I was a first time donor. This sign proved to be a nuisance as everyone who passed by checked my machine and inquired after my "feelings". This also prompted a long speech from the pretty boy named Bill. He checked my veins and then called for a fellow lab employee. They concluded they would need to get a smaller needle from the storage room. Apparently I have small veins.

I attempted to start a conversation with the one called Bill in attempt to keep him near and also to defer my attention away from the "small" needle being placed in my arm.

Bill and I were soon joined by the medical supervisor. He informed Bill I was to be closely watched and to lower the speed of my machine because I was "so little". The process took 1 hour to get 750 mL of plasma. During that hour I had an interesting conversation with the medical supervisor about military fathers, and a disturbing conversation about pot with another lab employee. I was also brought a blanket by a woman worker. The place was freezing! and my shivering and goose bumps drew pity. In that hour I also corrected a big headed male lab employee who insisted on lecturing me about hydration. A subject that I have a lot of knowledge on, and I took great pleasure in cutting him off.

The ongoing conversations and frequent visits by Bill passed the time. I have to go back Monday to donate again, or they will throw the plasma I gave today away. They will speed my machine up with each visit, so next time will go faster. Not to mention I will get 40 dollars at the end of my next donation.

At the end of it all I successfully gained the acquaintance of one of God's beautiful creatures, made known to medical supervisors, and made 20 dollars in cash. It was process I will gladly do again.