pyrogenic: Apples to Pornography
I broke out the scanner and posted a pair of sketches to DeviantArt. I really should attempt to install my tablet on my dear Thalia here, now that I've got assorted cables and an art program that I'm learning a little more. My favorite way of doing things is painting, for the record. I have been known to designate myself a corner of the page as a palette and put in clean colors and then mix them with a smear tool to get the colors I want, then dropper and plop a blob where I want it and then smear it into place.
I went and attempted to give plasma today. I say attempted, because it did not go too well. First, though, I finished my taxes (AZ does not take electronic payment, boo hiss) and got them packaged up to send, then since I was going to be sending stuff, I dashed off a quick note to Sis and the LF, and since that had some sketches that were too darling to send without saving, I scanned them...
I did get out the door in a timely fashion, sort of. I did get the stuff mailed, and I did get to the plasma place in good time. Once there, though, and inside --
-- The stick did not go well. It was the cute guy with the three dolphin earrings who stuck me. I have a habit of holding on tight to my silver star when stuck, as a matter of comfort -- a feeling of closeness, a habit deeply ingrained, a superstitious "If I should die from this, know that even at the last I thought of you", and something to hold on tight to without the risk of letting go or flailing about should the stick hurt like fuck. This time the habit served me very well indeed. He stuck me, and stuck me well -- and then kept pushing. Until he hit something that HURT.
Twyla, the slightly older lady, came over and adjusted the needle, pulling it out some, but evidently not out enough to be entirely comfortable. The draw was all right, but the return was high pressure/stop-and-go for a bit. I raised my hand to point this out just as the next draw commenced -- and my arm might as well have been a turnip. No-flow.
There was poking, prodding, and digging about, and each little adjustment of the needle was more ham-handed than the last. First the dolphin earring guy mashed it about, so by the time Twyla came over and adjusted it more gently and stripped the line, I was on the verge of panicking, and whatever she did sent me over just that much more.
I said as much, and eventually (not quite soon enough for my taste) I got soothed down and DCed. I remember that I was hanging on to the last bits of my control with all I had, lest I go entirely bugnuts with a needle still in my arm. I was lying there very limply just leaking tears quietly for a bit.
I am happy in that I didn't come out of it with an RBC loss, because there wasn't enough blood in the bowl to count; there's more blood left at the end of the procedure than there was for the beginning of this draw that didn't happen.
It was recorded as an underdraw due to no-flow, and since it was my choice to DC at that point rather than an administrative one, I didn't get the full pay. (I suspect that they would have Not Liked It if I'd waited out their poking and prodding and wound up with an RBC loss and a full-blown panic attack. I suspect I wouldn't have liked it either, and it's entirely beneath my dignity to have that happen.)
As it is, the arm is sore, and I'll have a nice dark red bruise around my stick-point/scar.
I should be feeling better by Wednesday.
I did a little grocery shopping. I had intended to stop by and see trystan_laryssa, dustraven, and any other bits of family who might be in (I suspect there might have been something Figmentatious there tonight, as he and I are harbingers for each other), but when I got home I realized I needed to do laundry, and once I'd done laundry trystan_laryssa didn't answer the phone, and no sooner had I called and left a message than Dawn called, and we spent until after 11pm just chatting away nineteen to the dozen.
Dawn's going to try and call Monday evenings now. She really needs someone there to talk with...