The first time I donated plasma I felt fine. They told me I should sit down for a minute, so I did, but then I felt fine to walk the six or so blocks home. I had to run a little to get across a street, and then I had to walk up a hill. Still feeling fine. I was still a decent distance from my dorm when someone stopped me and asked me what my last name was. I turned around and saw a missionary that had served in my area back home! He was off his mission and going to school. We caught up for a little bit, and then he said he had to leave. That's when I noticed I was feeling a little funny, so I asked him if he would just make sure I made it home all right. I hit the ground two steps later. He had to half carry half drag me the rest of the way to my dorm. Uphill. Leaving his bike where we had stopped to talk. It sucked. Looking back I'm really surprised that no one else stopped to help us.
Anyway almost every time after that I've gotten a little lightheaded after donating, and twice I've gotten really sick. I've been deferred a few times because of bruising. I can only donate with my right arm so there's always the risk that they won't be able to return my blood to me. Why would I go back? Well Steven has been feeling a little bad because he has a full time job that he LOATHES, while it seems like I just sit around. I haven't been able to find a full time job, but I do have a part time job that's kinda cushy. And then there's my problem with wanting to buy lots of clothes and expensive food. So I wanted to bring a little more money in. But I didn't want to make a big deal about it in case it didn't work out.
BUT IT DID WORK OUT!!! I super prepped. I drank TONS of water, worked out and ate a high protein meal, took Arnica 200c to help ease the trauma to the venipuncture site, Pod and Poc-ed my way through all of the scary memories that came up, and ran Reiki the whole time.
Yet this is what really stunned me. Instead of being afraid, I found that I was really excited. Like smiley excited. Like pulling faces in the bathroom mirror after... ahem... preparing my urine sample. Like practically bouncing onto the donor floor. And that's when it hit me. It's really true what they say, that fear doesn't exist. That what we call fear is actually EXCITEMENT in disguise. Think about it! It makes so much sense! It's what keeps us from following our dreams. We think we're scared, but we're really just so excited that we can't even contain it and our brains cross wires and it presents itself as fear. So do you think you're scared of, but you're actually ecstatically excited for?