It starts with something simple but expensive, say, a $276 speeding ticket from the grand state of Oklahoma.
Suddenly, donating plasma to get money not only becomes and option but a necessity. You heard somewhere you don’t really need your plasma, at least not all of it, and since you need, or at least want, some extra cash you decide to check it out.
But let the Daily Lobo save you the trouble of something you might be incapable of doing. Culture Editor Chris Quintana literally gave up his life fluid for you people so you would have a better sense of what goes on in plasma donation:
My day at the Yale Plasma Center began at 10 a.m. and didn’t finish until 2:30 p.m. The process includes a medical screening, health questions, an AIDS awareness test and waiting. And more waiting. And then more waiting, just when I thought it was all over.
And when I was done with all that, there’s the needle.
It’s about the size of a ballpoint pen tip, and it goes in the vein, right in the crook of the arm. But I am getting a bit ahead of myself.
For those interested in donating, here’s what’s required: a letter addressed to you within the last 30 days, your social security card and your state driver’s license to verify your identity.
From here, it’s all about the questionnaires. They give you a giant packet to read, stuff dealing with AIDS, Crohn’s disease, eating habits, dangers associated with donation and so on. A couple of new donors were there the day I came in, and they just skimmed over everything. It’s safe to say that’s probably standard.
From there begin the questionnaires. They ask about any diseases, surgeries, tattoos (sorry folks, but some tattoos specifically those that can’t be verified by a professional agency will disqualify you from donating) sexual activity and any time spent in Europe.
I answered the same questions about two or three times, but it’s reassuring in a way. This plasma is going to help someone, the signs in the clinic says, and it only makes sense that they would want to run checks on it.
Here’s the difficult part: They are long waits between these questions the first time you go in. There’s a lot of processing of records, blood and urine that takes a while. On top of that, they enter you into their system and check you against a plasma registry to make sure you haven’t been blacklisted from any other plasma donation centers. Standard stuff, mostly, but it takes a long while.
Actually, waiting, after a while, does terrible things to the mind. You start wondering if the person in front of you cut, whether the people dealing with your files are actually doing anything other than just chatting with one another. Basically, you go insane, and then wait even longer.
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From there, it’s a urine test, and from there a brief and non-invasive physical. And then some more waiting. The whole time you do this, return donors come in, sign a sheet, and then are called to the back where they are hooked up to large machines. You see this, and wish it was you, because they get to leave sooner.
Eventually, once your paperwork is done, and the tests finished, you go through the normal donation process. They pull up your file, and call you to the front desk. They prick you with a needle, and weigh you. They also mark you with a UV marker so you can’t donate at other centers. They ask you more questions, and then you wait again, and then finally, you’re called back.
There are rows of machines, each with a tiny centrifuge inside. It draws blood, then spins it, separating the red blood cells from plasma, and then returns the blood, but to do any of this, it’s got to draw blood, and that blood comes from human beings. In this case, me.
Which brings us back to the needle.
See, I used to donate plasma as a freshman, and I have slight scars on my arms from it. I know the process of getting stuck, as the phlebotomists and patrons call it, and I did fine until an infiltration occurred.
That’s when the phlebotomist ruptures the vein with the needle. Then the skin swells, in my case, to golf ball size. They gave me ice for the swelling, and I was fine but spooked.
I stopped for a while, but then needed more money and came back as is the case with most people there. Ask anyone in the clinic. A lot have had this happen, some are even happy. You get an extra $5 when it does.
This time, the stick went off without a hitch. There’s a tiny amount of pain when the needle enters the vein, but it goes away quickly, and from there it’s just suction.
The blood is drawn, put into the machine, spun, and returned once the plasma is harvested. The returned red blood cells feel a little cold, but it’s reassuring to know you’re getting your blood back.
This cycle happens about four to six times, depending on how fatty your blood is, and that’s it. There’s a bottle that you can see filling with your plasma as an indication of how much longer you have to go. The person donating generally loses about a liter of fluid, but it depends.
I ended up hooked to the machine for about an hour and a half, but that was largely my fault (See graphic).
The removal of the needle is also painless. They pull it out, you apply pressure on the wound, and then they wrap it tight with gauze to prevent bleeding.
After the process, I was a bit woozy and lightheaded, but I got $20 the first time. The next visit I am scheduled for $35. And I got to say, I was pleased. Sure there’s the issue of selling bodily fluids, but the money is so easy and fast.
If you need money and want it without much work, plasma donation might be the answer you’re looking for.
Tips for
successful
plasma donation:
Drink lots of water. If you
already drink water, you will need
to drink more to make sure your body
can stand losing about a liter of fluid.
The staff has a saline solution that helps
keep you hydrated and your blood from
coagulating, but it doesn’t hurt to be
prepared.
Avoid fatty foods and dairy products the day
before donation. They will put fat in your blood and make the donation process longer than it needs to be.
No alcohol or caffeine before donation day.
Alcohol will dry you out completely, and caffeine will cause excessive urination.
Bring a book, or some form of distraction. This way, you don’t go crazy from waiting.


