Because I have pretty low blood pressure, I figured I'd be one of those people who gets all woozy and then proceeds to say strange things that make the others wonder about them. But no. After what seemed to be something of a protocol issue that meant I was randomly shuttled over from one vampire group to another (and had to do the same paperwork-ish stuff again, as well as get pricked on the finger... so now I have two slightly bruised third fingers instead of one), I sat and talked to a guy who'd been in my English class last semester. Nice guy. True story. He'd donated before, and he basically popped in, popped a vein, and popped out. I was set in the chair next to him while he was proceeding through this popping sequence, and that was when all hell broke loose.
Or, rather, didn't break loose, which was the root of the problem.
So I sat there for what felt like, if it wasn't actually, an hour, and squeezed my little stress ball and looked at the rain and examined the walls and checked out the two cute guys on the other side of the room, only to discover, after much squishing of tubes and digging around of needles, that the blood had clotted. So that half-packet-y thing was out.
And the lady was like, "Do you want to try the other arm? How do you feel?"
And I was like, "Sure; fine."
So we did the other side.
Which took about another half hour, to eventual -- I lay stress upon the eventual -- success.
I signed in at 12:40, and I probably got to the actual chair about one or so. And then didn't get back to my dorm until about 2:50. Just for a ballpark timeline there.
I actually did feel okay, even after that wretched ordeal, and still do. Though my hands were shaking a little. And the emotional trauma of "YOU FAIL AT GIVING BLOOD" was worse than the actual experience. Though those were bitches of needles. They're like fangs. Hollow center and all.
Those vampires had better save the SHIT out of somebody, let me tell you.
Ahhh, it's good to be whiny and melodramatic. You have no idea.