I. Hustle
10-08-2009, 04:21 PM
100% true story...kinda. This really happened to me... maybe
I donate blood every few months, and sometimes I let professionals do it, and I received a phone call from a blood donation center. They asked me if I could donate blood as soon as possible because an emo baby that was born with some complications needed emo blood. My blood type is type emO negative. I agree to do it and I tell her I will be there at 7pm which is an hour after my daily cry. It begins to rain intensely around 6:30pm which makes me sad because people can't see my tears. I had very low visibility through the windshield and it can be dangerous to drive in those conditions so I decide to drive there alone which makes me even more depressed because nobody loves me enough to be with me during such a major medical procedure like this.
Once I arrive to the blood donation center, the weather hasn't changed and that made me sad. I don't use umbrellas, so I got wet while walking to the entrance because I look sadder that way. I was polite, the usual hello good evening, etc. I am seated and the process begins. I always make sure to ask the nurse to let me cut myself and just let the blood drip into the bag. The "nurse" refuses and tourniquets my left arm with the elastic band and I notice it might be too tight, but I remembered her from an emo party I went to so I figured she knew what she was doing. My veins are deep in the arm and I always have to help the nurses find them because even they seem to hate me and want to hide from me. I sometimes throw in the joke about it being meaning that humanity is out to get me and the world hates me. She tries small talk, I tell her my birthday is tomorrow.
Anyway, she begins to take blood. After about 10 minutes had passed, the blood stopped coming through to the donation bag. The bag was about half full by now. The nurse was confused. She tried to gently move the needle but there was no more blood. She asked for help which led to an african-american nurse coming to help me. She commandeered the needle and began her exploration of my arm. I have a high tolerance for pain, so I didn't even wince or make a single sound as I stared at the needle going in and out of my arm which makes me that much cooler than any of you. This captain of USS Internal Injury continued to jab my arm in different directions. She pulled 90% of the needle out and then turned the needle to the right and went in again. She repeated this process in different directions which made me cum. It was about this time that I was wondering if these nurses know what the hell they are even doing because if they didn’t it was some sort of miracle. I told the blood harlot to stop so I could clean myself. She removed the needle and the tourniquet. I could not move my arm. I couldn't even feel my arm. It was limp, dead. I was now upset because this is the moment I realized the previous nurse had tightened the arm band to the point of cutting all circulation from my jacking off arm. No wonder the blood stopped coming. SHE HAD DRAINED ALL THE BLOOD IN MY DAMN ARM! That can lead to serious injury.... which made me sad.
I tell the nurse I am done. The black (who is no longer african-american because I am mad) nurse tries to convince me to let them use my OTHER arm. Obviously, I said no. My birthday is tomorrow, I need my other arm for cutting the words my parents hate me in my jacking off arm. I can't feel or even lift my left arm properly. I have to drive home since, in case you missed it, I decided to come alone. I need my arm for doing stuff. No. She doesn't care, she opens those little rubbing alcohol packs and tries to prep my right arm. The original blonde nurse comes with a new blood donation pack for my right arm. This is where I stopped being a gentleman. I told her NO in a loud whisper. I specifically told her I need to drive home and it's my birthday tomorrow (because telling them twice already wasn’t enough). I didn't even bring up the fact that they were worse than the vampires I try to emulate and I sure as hell wasn't going to give them my right arm after the Massacre of the Left Arm.
The result? The black (not African-American) nurse gave me an evil look and treated me like crap after I said no. The blonde one was confused why I wouldn't give the other arm, and she was upset that she had to open a second donation pack. I left that place mistreated and feeling like the bad guy?
My arm? Oh, it was only purple around the area of the needle for a few days and I couldn't lift it for hours. Who cares about the fact I drove over here on my own time and gas, in the middle of torrential rain, got wet, gave up my arm as a sacrifice to the Needle Duo and they massacred my arm, leaving a big purple bump and no real use of my arm for a few hours, starved myself for three days, dropped my mascara somewhere and can’t find it, didn’t tie my pizza eating girlfriend up tight enough. Nope. Blonde nurse was upset she opened a second pack, black nurse was judging me for not giving my right arm and immediately said "whatever" and walked away treating me like crap.
If I ever donate again, I am definitely going back to that place. My arm is OK now, but I still have a purple mark.
Can you believe this crap? Sometimes I get all the luck!
I donate blood every few months, and sometimes I let professionals do it, and I received a phone call from a blood donation center. They asked me if I could donate blood as soon as possible because an emo baby that was born with some complications needed emo blood. My blood type is type emO negative. I agree to do it and I tell her I will be there at 7pm which is an hour after my daily cry. It begins to rain intensely around 6:30pm which makes me sad because people can't see my tears. I had very low visibility through the windshield and it can be dangerous to drive in those conditions so I decide to drive there alone which makes me even more depressed because nobody loves me enough to be with me during such a major medical procedure like this.
Once I arrive to the blood donation center, the weather hasn't changed and that made me sad. I don't use umbrellas, so I got wet while walking to the entrance because I look sadder that way. I was polite, the usual hello good evening, etc. I am seated and the process begins. I always make sure to ask the nurse to let me cut myself and just let the blood drip into the bag. The "nurse" refuses and tourniquets my left arm with the elastic band and I notice it might be too tight, but I remembered her from an emo party I went to so I figured she knew what she was doing. My veins are deep in the arm and I always have to help the nurses find them because even they seem to hate me and want to hide from me. I sometimes throw in the joke about it being meaning that humanity is out to get me and the world hates me. She tries small talk, I tell her my birthday is tomorrow.
Anyway, she begins to take blood. After about 10 minutes had passed, the blood stopped coming through to the donation bag. The bag was about half full by now. The nurse was confused. She tried to gently move the needle but there was no more blood. She asked for help which led to an african-american nurse coming to help me. She commandeered the needle and began her exploration of my arm. I have a high tolerance for pain, so I didn't even wince or make a single sound as I stared at the needle going in and out of my arm which makes me that much cooler than any of you. This captain of USS Internal Injury continued to jab my arm in different directions. She pulled 90% of the needle out and then turned the needle to the right and went in again. She repeated this process in different directions which made me cum. It was about this time that I was wondering if these nurses know what the hell they are even doing because if they didn’t it was some sort of miracle. I told the blood harlot to stop so I could clean myself. She removed the needle and the tourniquet. I could not move my arm. I couldn't even feel my arm. It was limp, dead. I was now upset because this is the moment I realized the previous nurse had tightened the arm band to the point of cutting all circulation from my jacking off arm. No wonder the blood stopped coming. SHE HAD DRAINED ALL THE BLOOD IN MY DAMN ARM! That can lead to serious injury.... which made me sad.
I tell the nurse I am done. The black (who is no longer african-american because I am mad) nurse tries to convince me to let them use my OTHER arm. Obviously, I said no. My birthday is tomorrow, I need my other arm for cutting the words my parents hate me in my jacking off arm. I can't feel or even lift my left arm properly. I have to drive home since, in case you missed it, I decided to come alone. I need my arm for doing stuff. No. She doesn't care, she opens those little rubbing alcohol packs and tries to prep my right arm. The original blonde nurse comes with a new blood donation pack for my right arm. This is where I stopped being a gentleman. I told her NO in a loud whisper. I specifically told her I need to drive home and it's my birthday tomorrow (because telling them twice already wasn’t enough). I didn't even bring up the fact that they were worse than the vampires I try to emulate and I sure as hell wasn't going to give them my right arm after the Massacre of the Left Arm.
The result? The black (not African-American) nurse gave me an evil look and treated me like crap after I said no. The blonde one was confused why I wouldn't give the other arm, and she was upset that she had to open a second donation pack. I left that place mistreated and feeling like the bad guy?
My arm? Oh, it was only purple around the area of the needle for a few days and I couldn't lift it for hours. Who cares about the fact I drove over here on my own time and gas, in the middle of torrential rain, got wet, gave up my arm as a sacrifice to the Needle Duo and they massacred my arm, leaving a big purple bump and no real use of my arm for a few hours, starved myself for three days, dropped my mascara somewhere and can’t find it, didn’t tie my pizza eating girlfriend up tight enough. Nope. Blonde nurse was upset she opened a second pack, black nurse was judging me for not giving my right arm and immediately said "whatever" and walked away treating me like crap.
If I ever donate again, I am definitely going back to that place. My arm is OK now, but I still have a purple mark.
Can you believe this crap? Sometimes I get all the luck!