My friend told me about how to make $70 extra bucks a week by:
1. lying down for an hour twice a week on a recliner
2. with my laptop (or a book)
3. and have free childcare
I just couldn’t pass up this opportunity! The only catch is that you have to have one arm hostage to a needle while it is sucking out your plasma (there is a more scientific way to explain the process but you know what I mean). Well, I’ve never had a problem with giving blood so I was ready to start as soon as I could.
Today was my fourth time to give plasma. It just so happened that today my plasma sucking machine ‘malfunctioned’, (which they say almost never happens.)
Except to me of course.
Anyway, something about my red blood cells escaping into the tube that was bringing my plasma into the plasma bag-(hey, I’m not a doctor!). So, for that reason, I had to be disconnected to the machine asap. Therefore, I could not get any of my blood back that I had just now ‘donated’ and I couldn’t get any saline pumped back into my body so I could feel ‘replenished’ from all my now, missing plasma. So, I get disconnected and stand up and walk to get my money that I well earned. I walk about 20 feet and need to sit down.
Fade to black.
Next thing I know I hear the phlebotomist who dismissed me to leave say, “M’am? Are you okay?”
Well, I was all sweaty and slouched over across the chairs, dizzy, lightheaded, and I couldn’t see but black and purple blotches so yah, I was not feeling that great. Apparently, I blacked out when I sat down. So then, 3 phlebotomists and a doctor helped me back to a recliner (I must of been a sight to see for the other 50 donaters as I’m being helped by 4 men and I totally cannot see.) I rest there for awhile and they tell me, “We probably should of given you the saline.” You think so? After 20 extra minutes of rest and a bottle of water and my blood pressure taken 15 times, they let me go. So, am I donating again? Um…YES. They told me the chances of a machine malfunctioning on me again is almost never. I think I’ve heard that before somewhere but I like lessons learned the hard way.
As I was driving home, Rilyn (who was in childcare at the time-the ‘plasma playroom’ as I like to call it) asked me why I give my plasma. I told her that I am saving lives. She got really weepy and asked, “Will you save my life mommy?” I told her that she doesn’t need it. She said, “You want me to die?” I told her she isn’t sick and then she told me that sometimes she has a cold and will need my plasma then. I told her when you are in a hospital and your body is sick inside then you might need plasma. She asked, “when I’m a mommy, will I have to give plasma like you? (she is staring wide-eyed at my lime green band wrapped around my elbow) “No, Rilyn. And you know what? (truth prevails as I grow weary trying to explain to Rilyn how I’m trying to save the world, one plasma bag at a time) Mommy is giving plasma to make money, ok?”
“Oh, OKAY!” end of conversation.
the paquettes 