Something.
Anyway, today they fucked all the hell up. The needle was in my vein in a bad way or something and it was taking a kinda long time and when they finally got the bag filled and moved on to the vials (for tests so they can know if my blood's safe to use), it just wasn't working. Well, as near as I can tell, they were trying to reposition the needle in my vein, cue sharp pain in my arm, my breath catches, I look over, needle's been pulled out, lots of blood (including on the shirt I was wearing). I think they might have pierced through the other side of the vein or some such. And after all that, they had to stick me in the other arm (which went off without a hitch) to get blood for the vials.
Here's a pic of what it looks like right now, about 5 to 6 hours after giving blood.
And just think what it'll look like once the bruises have time to develop. Nice...
Course, I know this won't stop me from donating again. Like I said, it's what I do. I really like to give of myself, you might say. I suppose even past the point of pain.
In other news, I dropped my Costume Design and History class and am now only taking 13 credits. But that's ok; I have some summer credits under my belt and I aldreay know I'm doing the London program this coming summer which includes (i think??) 6 credits worth of class.
And I'm beat. I'll to sleep now.
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