Giving of myself/ Me being a wimp

At the beginning of the quarter my biology teacher told us that if we gave blood we would get 10 points of extra credit. My first and very logical thought was “NO WAY, I am NOT doing that”. She also said that we could get friends to do it, but we had to have proof for it. So I proceeded to ask some of my friends and the result was a very quick “no” and a look that said “Are you out of your mind?”. I didn’t blame them. Who, in their right mind would cause themselves excruciating pain (that is what I thought).
As the quarter wore on, I began thinking more and more about the extra credit. I decided that I would just wait, in hopes that I wouldn’t need the extra credit. This past week, I began to realize that this extra credit could determine a letter grade. A plan began formulating in mind. I would go to the clinic and ask somebody who was giving blood if I could have their slip of paper. They would be my “friend”. Marvelous plan don’t you think? I was planning on introducing myself and asking their name so that they would really be my friend.
Thursday rolled around and I was quickly running out of time. That morning I decided I was going to the blood bank. BUT…….. after geology class, I decided that it would be much wiser to study for my math test and go to the blood bank the next day. Mmmmhmm, procrastinating. :D
Friday morning (yesterday) I took the test, studied at school and then around 12:30 left school for the blood bank. I pulled into Sunset Square with this knot in my stomach. Why was I nervous when I was only going to go make friends? I sat in my car with the blood bank in full view. “I will just sit here and watch until some nice looking person walks in, then I will go and ask them” I thought. No, I then decided that was stupid, I would just walk up to the building and peek in the windows to find that “friend.” The Lord had other plans. I got to the sidewalk as this very scary man walked around the corner. He was looking at me and talking to himself and then I was very scared. My only option was to go into the blood bank.
In I went. The receptionist looked up and smiled. I said “I have a predicament” and without letting me finish she said “You are in science class at the college and if you give blood you get extra credit so that you can get a good grade”. I looked at her, stunned. Finally I nodded my head and tried to explain that I didn’t want to be here, that I hated needles, that this was so not cool, but that I needed the extra credit. Somehow I ended up sitting down filling paperwork out and then before I knew it I was in a room with a nurse. She pricked my finger and I started bleeding. It hurt really bad which was only a precursor to what would come. She said I had enough blood to give, but that they would just give me a piece of paper “saying” I gave blood if I really didn’t want to continue the process. I said something about that not really being truthful and her next words really upset me “Well nobody but us will ever know that you DIDN’T”. I looked her straight in the eyes and said “But I would, and it wouldn’t be honest, so I am giving blood”. End of story.
Out I went. They got me ready and I started to panic internally. I kept asking about the pain, they kept saying you can “hardly feel it”. I warned them that I might cry. They just laughed. Then they said look away, and I as I did I felt pain rip through my arm. The tears welled up and I began crying. Sobs started to wrack my body and I tried super hard to not make a lot of noise. “Hardly feel it”… that was what they told me. ALL LIES!!! Hmph, it hurt so bad.
They got me tissues, water, ice packs. I was feeling nasty and sick. A nurse went and got “meditation” music (as they called it). Then they told me that I needed to start practicing meditation. I looked at them and laughed. Finally it was over. As the needle came out, the pain lessened in my arm only to be replaced by aching. After a while they let me get up. The lady in charge of the food and drink talked my head off, even though I only wanted peace and quiet. After they let me leave I went to my car and called my dad. He was so shocked that I had really done it, as was I . When I got off the phone, I started crying until I felt better.
In conclusion, I hate pain. Giving blood was too much pain. They asked me if I wanted to schedule my next appointment, and I just looked at them. I said that once in a lifetime is plenty. Maybe someday waaaay in the future I will give blood again. But, I do know one thing... I AM A WIMP.