That's Schmitastic!

(Note to Rob... notice that this blog is more than eight words long, read 'em and follow suit, I beg of you! )

Something exciting finally happened to me! Something exciting finally happened to me!

Well street-dancing Jehovah, Biolife Plasma Services has essentially saved my social life. I now have the coolest conversation-starter ever; for the sole purpose of warning others against the dangers of plasma suckage or maybe just for the opportunity to gross people out with a true tale of three-inch needles and oodles of blood flow.

Anyway, time for the good stuff. Yesterday, at Biolife, I was laying in my cozy chair, getting my plasma sucked out of my left arm for about ten minutes and reading a magazine when I ever so casually leaned my right arm down to fish around for my laptop. Suddently, I felt a wicked cool splash on my face... was it water, you ask? Nah. Plasma? Um, sick no. Blood? Oh yeah baby. "Ohhhh yeeeeeah!" (Cue the Kool-Aid man breaking through the brick wall).

Because the needle had completely slipped out of my arm, my blood was squirting every-which-cotton-picking-where. It splattered all over my magazine, my white sweatshirt, my face and neck, and was oozing down the armrest and on to my back and the butt of my jeans. I was so perterbed but generally kept the Emily coolness factor. I said, "um" and pointed, and two of the Biolife people came running and stopped the bleeding by pressing 80271 pieces of gauze all over my arm. I'd have to say, the most embarressing part of the whole thing was the one guy wiping my face with Baby Wipes like I was a bed-ridden invalid while the other guy was slipping my sweatshirt over my head to be placed in a Bio-hazard bag. Meanwhile, every human being and their cocker spaniel watched as all the workers disinfected every inch of the floor and mean-mugged me while my head spun and sipped juice before I was allowed to leave. I especially loved when the stupid dingbat in the chair next to me called them over and said, "Um, you missed the blood over here by MY chair." (Ya know, it really IS a good thing that I haven't had sex with a man who has lived to Africa since 1977, hey? Ooh, what an horribly insensitive and un-funny plasma joke.)

So that's my story, ladies and gents. I got paid $30 for sitting in a chair for 10 minutes and being showered with my own blood. Although I have oodles of laundry to do (FYI, cold water, no matter what your mother tells you, does not completely work on blood stains. What would Martha say?) and although I can NOT show my face at Biolife anytime in the near future, I must say, that was the coolest thing that has ever happened to me!