A moving murder scene

So, being the foolish citizen I am, I have decided to take it upon myself and get poked with a needle twice a week to donate plasma...all for a little extra cash. You know, so I can go out to eat with my co workers if I want to, buy my favorite pair of jeans or, just have a little stash for a rainy day.

This has not been a pleasant experience and I highly doubt that I will be returning.

Take my morning, this morning, for example.

I stroll into the donation center at about 8am. All is well-my iron levels are good, I have drank plenty of water to make sure that all flows nicely.

I get poked, wrapped and I'm out the door in about 45 minutes with about $40 extra dollars in my pocket.

I am driving down the interstate to work and I feel a drip-drip-drip down my elbow into my parka I am wearing by the elbow of my right arm.

I pull up my sleeve and see that blood is seeping underneath my bandage. I put pressure on it to see if it helps. NOPE it makes it squirt-so now I have a pool of blood on my lap on my parka about to overflow onto my seat. Thank goodness I do not faint at the sight of blood, because I would have been in deep trouble.

I look like a moving murder scene. I am also going 60 mph in heavy morning traffic and approaching a slower speed as we are getting into a construction zone. Perfect.

So, I'm driving one-handed, calling my employer to get me a new shirt to wear, and stopping the flow of blood as best I can whilst keeping everyone else on the road safe. Sitcom episode in the making, I KNOW.

I pull into the parking lot, blood spills out of my lap as I get out of my car onto the pavement and I'm running into the building holding up my arm and putting pressure on it like any good EMT impersonator would (do I hear "RESCUE 911 music in the background??).

I get to the bathroom and clean up and stop the bleeding. All is well.

I'm clean.

Wondering if this mess was worth the $40 I was paid today.

I am not normal.