So, claustrophobic me decided it would be a smashing idea to participate in a local blood drive that was happening out of the Red Cross bloodmobile- or what I like to affectionately refer to as the Wienermobile. Now, to be perfectly honest, I didn't know it was happening out of the hotdog on wheels, I assumed it was in an actual building. Ha! Little did I know...
So after a 2 hour drive (this location was giving away nifty gifts as thank yous- free access to Rose Festival events, private tours, etc.) I found the location. After walking into the building to sign the paperwork and read the mandated reading, they point me back outside to the Twinkie bus. Oh joys. When I enter said bus, they proceeded to enclose me in what I can only describe as a renovated bathroom that was now a "intake room". Why the small room you ask? Well apparently they needed to give me complete privacy while asking me about my blood history... never mind the 2 inch crack between the door and the floor, I am sure it was totally private. I mean, really? They should let participants waiver their right to privacy and leave that damn door open, that room was not only small and getting smaller by the moment, but it was HOT!
After an eternal 10 minutes I finally got out and was laid down on one of their 4 donating beds. The nurse hooked me up and ran the tubing down the length of my lower arm to the bag on the floor. I never liked this, something about the tube, that is warm with my blood, tracing my arm is kinda weird. After it was all done they directed me to the snack area, which was exactly 1.5 steps from where I was laying. I turned down the offer of juice and cookies and opted for my water instead. As I sat there waiting for my ten minute recuperating period to be up, I tried to figure out if the slight dizziness and vertigo I was having was from giving blood or from the giant Twinkie (I get that way every time I am in a small-ish enclosed space). I finally decided it was the Twinkie and left, I figured it was worth the risk of falling on my face to get out of the little tin can. And whatdayaknow, it was the Wienermobile after all.
So the moral of today's story: always check to make sure a blood drive is happening in an actual building and not in the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.
