Bruises.

The next morning we stepped into a familiar room. There were old torn chairs lining the four walls of the room. The sterile smell made me wish we never came. A stern woman called my name to the window and asked me several questions. I answered her questions timidly. We were then directed to sit and wait. Our names had been placed on the list. There were several others waiting, an elderly black man with a tear in the knee of his pants, a middle aged Korean woman engrossed in her magazine, and a middle aged white male with a protruding belly and a bright yellow hard hat. We watched the others go before us. I noticed the Korean woman tapping her foot. I noticed the white male squirm in his chair. We all felt that way. We all pretended we were brave and didn’t mind, but none of us wanted to be there.

A few moments later my name was called. My mom had to help me up. Hunched over, I did my best to stagger quickly across the room. I was escorted back to a sterile room with harsh lighting and asked for my arm. I looked down at my arm, reservedly, not wanting to give it to her. Both arms were covered in bruises. Green and purple blotches covered me. I was cold. We had done this too many times. I had already given too much. “Were the doctors sure this was a good idea?”.

She told me she was going to “try my hand”. I knew that was reserved for the ones who were hard sticks. I looked away while she grabbed a handful of test tubes. I knew they were for me. I wondered if I had enough blood left to give. I was so weak. My mind wandered as she placed a rubber tie firmly around my arm. I then heard her parrot the all too familiar, “Little pinch”. They must tell them to say that in training. This little pinch really meant, “Brace yourself because this is going to hurt”. I didn’t flinch. That was nothing to me. There was nothing a 27 gauge needle could do to me that would even come close to the pain that had plagued me. I listened silently as I heard the blood come hushing out of me into the test tubes, one after another. I was given a thick piece of gauze and told to “hold pressure”. A large Band-Aid was placed on my hand, and we were sent on our way.

My body jostled as the car drove up the bumpy driveway, but I was happy to be home. I was happy for the familiar smell of home.