Well, I’ve made it to Friday. Don’t fret, it’s not as depressing as it sounds. I have about three chapters to read over the weekend but apart from that (and, you know, work) there’s nothing demanding going on in my life.

Someone placed a hold on one of my textbooks so now I have to speed-read – something that I haven’t quite mastered yet. Actually, try, like, never had much success there at all.

Did I mention that I gave blood on Wednesday? Having just turned 18 this month, I figured I needed an outlet. Plus one donation can save three lives, and what’s a better incentive than that? I took along a friend for moral support; we were there for close to 90 minutes. Firstly they checked my BP, my iron levels (with a ‘finger prick’ – stabbing a small needle into my middle finger and squeezing my blood onto a microscope slide), my height and my weight.

Then it was into the donation area and onto a specially-designed chair, sort of like a dental patient’s chair. My vein took a bit of locating, and because it was my first time, I got given a stress ball. The donation needle is quite long and about four times thicker than your average vaccination needle, and the tip hurt. It was a case of, here we go, stab. For the first two or three seconds, the only thought going through my head was that my arm was hurting quite a bit more than I had anticipated. After that my brain adjusted my body’s response and I resigned to the fact that I’d be sitting there with a needle protruding my arm for the next ten minutes. Watching the donation bag fill up with blood was a sight in itself. There’s so much blood and it’s all so red.

When it was over, the nurse came to take the needle out. I hadn’t even contemplated this part – maybe the loss of blood was turning my senses to mush -, although she just told me that all I’d feel would be a slight tug on my skin. Here I’d like to say that it was more than a tug, it did actually hurt, though thankfully not nearly as much as when the needle went in. Bandage got slapped on, and the procedure was over.

I donated 410ml, plus a sample amount. The normal donation amount is about 470ml, but mine had to be adjusted because of my body size (if you’ve seen me around, you’d understand).  Being a person who must watch where the needle is and what it’s doing at all costs, my memory won’t be shaking away the image of the offending object anytime soon. I have to watch the needle because I absolutely hate not knowing when the pain will start. If I don’t know, then I have no time to brace myself. And that’s just not happening.

My arm looks bad at the moment, but it was much worse on Wednesday night. It looked like a war-zone for most of Thursday. You can still see the point where the needle went in, and the point where the needle stopped under my skin. If it’s any comfort, only about 3/4 of the needle actually goes into your arm.

Anyhow, this post didn’t exactly cover much about uni … so if you want more of that, you’ll have to stick with this blog!

See you all around campus.

Sherry

(And if anyone’s wondering about my avatar, yes, I’m a Federer supporter. Nadal supporters are still welcome to comment.)