The blood drive people have new apparatus. Instead of just clipping your bag to the railing, they put it in this little cradle that has tiny robotic arms that tips it back and forth (I guess to keep the blood flowing?) And when it gets heavy enough, the robot thing cheerfully starts cheeping until an attendant comes over and clamps the tube. It's actually ridiculously cute. (The mental image is probably cuter than the actual device. It mostly looks like a robotic swing with a digital display set. But now I'm picturing Pintsize from Questionable Content, rocking the blood cradle back and forth. Wait, no, Pintsize wouldn't be cute, he'd be creepy. Maybe the iPod robot instead. Or Marigold's chibi bot.)
Something must have happened, though - they were far more obsessive about reading you all the directions afterwards and walking you to the table and inspecting your bandage than ever before.
Something must have happened, though - they were far more obsessive about reading you all the directions afterwards and walking you to the table and inspecting your bandage than ever before.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-31 11:54 pm (UTC)From:1) You check in.
2) They give you a form to fill out in little cubicles. You inform them that you haven't had corneal transplants, accepted drugs for sex, lived in Britain for a substantial amount of time during the mad cow crisis, etc.
3) They do a little physical. They take your temperature and blood pressure and pulse, ask if you're feeling ok and if you ate breakfast and whether you're over the minimum weight limit, and prick your finger for a hemoglobin sample. (They squeeze out one drop of blood, stick that in a little reader, and put a bandaid on your finger. It used to hurt a lot, but they've improved the prickers and now I barely notice it.)
4) You sit for awhile waiting for a bed to open up.