I tried to get someone's attention. I was having trouble making any sound. All the lab coats ignored me. I was getting very dizzy. The room was going dark and out of focus. I was crying. I couldn't lift my arms. I felt paralyzed. It was hard to breathe.
The woman lying in the chair noticed my distress and called out loudly for help.
Finally, a short-tempered child came up to me, checked my pulse and said, "Oh, stop being a baby! It's just blood!"
Then the cramping started. I felt an overwhelming need to defecate. It was so painful, like a punch in the gut combined with food poisoning. The cramping continued in strong waves, through my abdomen, around to my back, through my genitals. It was agony.
I whispered, "I need to use the restroom. Will you help me?"
"You'll be done in just a second! Damn! Just wait, will you?" the girl huffed.
She took her time unhooking me. I couldn't sit up. I floundered and grabbed for the arm rests, trying.
At this point, the child got the hint that, perhaps, I was in real, physical distress.
I couldn't see more than a few inches in front of me; everything was dark and out of focus. The pain in my belly was real torture.
My mind was panicking. I had the sensation that I was dying. My body was begging me to please, give up, lie back and go to sleep! Get me out of this pain! The terror in my mind kept me from being seduced by my body and I scrambled to move, though, from an observer's point of view, it wouldn't have looked like I was moving much.
The child called for an assistant. They got me out of the chair and walked me. The child was angry. I don't remember much, but I got to go to the employee's restroom, as they needed the client restroom for urine drug testing. The child was angry about that, too.
I sat slouched on the commode, trying so hard to pass whatever was causing so much pain. I was so dizzy, I just slumped against the wall and tried to maintain my balance. I tried not to close my eyes; I didn't want to die on a damn toilet -- not in THIS hell hole.
I was in there a long time. They'd keep knocking, angry that they had to use the clients' bathroom.
Finally, the cramping began to ease. I was spooning water from the sink into my hand, washing my face, neck and chest, sipping it.
I was starting to be able to see.
After awhile, I could stand and leave the bathroom.
The angry child led me to the doctor's office. He said I'd had an allergic reaction to the chemicals, that I'd only get $25 that day, as I'd caused them so much work and the procedure hadn't finished (they got most, but not all, of the usual pint). He told me never to come back.
I was handed $25 in cash and admonished to leave out a side door. Seems I'd alarmed the other donors!
I was ushered out into the bright sun. I was alone.
I had to find my truck and drive quickly; I was late for my appointment with the rental agent!
I was still dizzy and partially blind. I was wobbly and weak, but I had to drive. Fast.
I just went to Google, to try to find out what had happened to me. I think I went into anaphylactic shock. It would explain why I had the sensation I was bleeding to death, getting weaker and colder by the minute. I could have died. The MERK Manual: Transfusion Medicine
