So, as most of you know, I frequently sell my life blood for some extra cash. Yesterday, when I went in, I came out looking like this:
This particular time, everything was going really smooth, but after the second or third return, I stopped flowing. The phlebotomists came over, checked me out, determined that my vein had been punctured and lost all pressure, moved the needle to my right arm, and promptly popped the other vein.
It is true, of the four to five people part of our plama-selling crew, that I have the worst luck and the most jokes made about me. Recently, my machine got clogged and stopped working completely. On another trip, they had to puncture me twice again for a different popped vein. On yet another trip, everything was going smoothly, but I had to pee so bad the entire hour or so, I couldn't even run to the restroom following everything. Nope. None of that for me. Trying to quit. Only a frankenstein shamble, please. So, for this trip, it really wasn't any surprise that anything else happened.
However, this draw proved troubling. Because of the time they chose to move arms, my red blood cells were unable to be returned to me as they usually are. The kind phlebotomist told me, after wrapping the vein she'd popped with ice, that, while I could continue to come back, if I had another bad draw like that again, then I would be FIRED.
Well, in all seriousness, I wouldn't be fired, just deferred for eight weeks, but it still came as a blow to me.
As I was walking back to eat a meal at the Cannon Center, I was pondering the ramifications of another bad draw. My ability to go on dates would be severely lessened, I mused. It would be a lot more difficult to go out, I'd have to be a little more hard-nosed about my money ... It was just rough all around.
Of course, then, I remembered that, whatever happened, the Lord knew what would be best for me in the long run. I can still sell my plasma right now! I haven't been deferred yet! And if the Lord wants to put me on the sidelines for a couple of months, well, I have to trust him. I know all things will work out in the end, and I'm grateful that He reminded me of that as I ate my lunch. Who knows what marvelous things He might want me to accomplish in the hours I would have spent selling if I actually am deferred.
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