save lives, give blood... and always take the cookie

on tuesday i went to the musgrove at the university to give blood. i've done it a fair few times now, so for an occurrence, it was far from unusual.

i went in with john-paul II and as we were in line, miss trunchbull disguised as a nurse came up to us with a styrofoam cup filled with some sort of citrus beverage - made from concentrate or powder sachets. when we politely declined, she retaliated with a menacing look and we accepted in fear. we then had some cookies. i had two dry shortbread biscuits that stuck to the top of my palate and a chocolate covered turkish delight biscuit which was deeelightful. i'd eaten a sandwich about ten minutes before so i was certainly far from famished.

the wait was long. but it was okay. it's nice to have company. john-paul II and i got called up at the same time so we decided to race. alas, he won by around ten seconds, hence i followed him out the door about ten seconds after he'd exited. we needed to find computers to continue with our homework; the common areas were full. we walked down to some obscure place with computers free and at this point a wave of illness washed over me.

"is there a bathroom i think i need to... (i walk into a table) i can't see... (i sit down) i can't see..." apparently my head fell onto the table. john-paul II helped me up and attempted to take me out for some fresh air... five steps and i was on the ground. he broke my fall.

i regained consciousness to someone saying, "i think she's seizing," and i wanted to reply, "no i'm not," but i couldn't as i was foaming at the mouth. i awoke and attempted to sit down only to be pushed back down by a patron on the phone to the emergency services: 111. i looked around at the unfamiliar faces that surrounded me and said, "where's john paul II?" someone replies, "he's run up to the musgrove to call for some help." oh no! "he can't run up! he's just given blood! and he's an asthmatic!"

john paul II comes panting down with stud (who thought too, that he required attention), the blood donation nurse who recognised me from the time before for interrogates me about whether or not i ate a cookie from the cookie jar.
"who me?"
"yes you."
"couldn't be."
"then who?"
not me; i didn't eat a cookie after i'd given blood. 'twas a mistake in accordance with stud. i convinced him i was fine and promised him i'd have a bar of chocolate and drink lots of non-alcoholic beverages. he left, convinced.

at this point, the ambulance that one of the unfamiliar faces had beckoned arrived. to prove to them i was fine, i walked myself to them. insisting i was white as a sheet, they took my blood pressure, which was 70:60 (mmHg), whereas normally, normally it is supposed to be 120:80. they then proceeded to drive me to the hospital. john paul II was kind enough to accompany me. my protests were all in vain and i ended up on a drip for the following five hours. upon the drip's completion, it too started to draw my blood. i requested it to be returned considering the circumstance.

they obliged.