I’m glad the title didn’t scare you, my wonderful reader, away. Welcome to my first blog post. Considering this is my millionth time starting my first entry, it’s difficult for me to remember what I’ve already said. And obviously I haven’t really said anything, but because my fingers remember typing it, my brain gets really confused. I never thought it would be so hard to start a blog and talk about my exciting life, but I guess every day has its challenges.

I think my biggest issue is that I have essentially no rules to follow. It’s like when teachers assign a project on any topic, in any format, with zero guidelines whatsoever. And I’m like, can you give me a rubric? So if you can’t tell already, I often overthink the simplest of situations but have decided to make this first entry as easy as possible and write about one new adventure I had last week: donating blood.

After I ate my usual Friday quesadilla, I walked down to the fieldhouse to give blood. I signed in, filled out the form saying I have nothing wrong with me and ate a cute package of two Oreos. A nurse called my name and directed me to my chair, which I struggled quite a bit to sit in because the seat was high off the ground. I waited a little longer while my nurse inserted a needle into the kid next to me and while the other kid next me had a wet cloth covering his forehead and several nurses taking care of him. I was anxious about giving blood in the first place, but this made me nervous. Luckily my nurse Brittany was ready for me, and I could focus on something else. She was very sweet with a long blonde side braid tied with a rubber band, which I thought was so nurse-y of her. She also said she liked my name, which was nice, but my favorite part about her was when she asked me to get out of my chair. At first I thought, “Oh great, now I’m going to have to struggle-bus getting into the chair again,” but then she said she just wanted to straighten out the chair, which I totally understood. I straighten picture frames everywhere I go, even restaurants, so I could tackle the chair again for that little bit of OCD in Brittany. Once situated, I realized the real fun was about to begin.

I have no problem with needles. When I was little I used to watch my doctors stab me with shots while my mom looked away. So when Brittany put my needle in, I thought about turning my head but was too interested not to watch. After a few adjustments of the little tube, it was smooth sailing. Everything was fine until my blood started flowing too slowly. So Brittany adjusted the needle, keeping it in the vein. I felt a little pinch, that’s expected, but then my body went crazy. I didn’t think I was passing out because everyone says your hearing leaves first, and I could still hear everything fine. Seeing was the issue. I tried focusing on something, anything, but the ceilings of the fieldhouse consist of lights surrounded by lights. My stomach froze, and my brain was not about to figure out how to ask for help. Once again, Brittany came to the rescue with a mini can of Sierra Mist, which after one sip fixed everything. Except my blood giving abilities. Long story short, my blood clotted in the needle, so I had to stop a little over half way. Which was such a bummer because now I don’t even know if my blood will save anyone. They say one donation helps three people, so does that mean I helped one and a half? Better than zero I suppose. But anyways, that’s my story. I finished my mini soda, took two tests and survived my weekend of a killer storm, the ACTs and a mouse in my car. But those stories belong to another day. :]

Well, thanks for reading; next time you’ll get to journey a little farther into my brain. I apologize for the length, but, really, what’s a few hundred words?

Until next time,

Olivia