Daniel and I went to the mall last night for a little coffee/dessert date. It was casual and cute and relaxing… and then we passed the blood drive station that was set up in the middle of the mall. #1 – How awkward?!? Why in the world do they have this set up inside the mall? #2 – How sketchy?!?! Like all other medical set-ups I’ve seen here, this does not seem very clean. There are blood splatters on the tile floors, I see a half empty bag of blood behind one of the recliners and there is just an open cooler that they are putting the blood in. Red Cross would not approve of this set up at all!
Well, my sweet husband is too darn nice to walk by a blood drive and not feel compelled to give, so we stopped and before I knew it he was filling out his information on a donor’s sheet. This is insane! What is happening here?!?! Is he really going to do this?!?! I would sooner die than have somebody stick me with a giant needle in the middle of a blood spattered station in the middle of a mall! Especially after my last experience I had with the walrus nurse! No way, not happening… and then it happened… they second classed me!
Here in Saudi, men reign supreme. It’s a cultural thing, but (in my expert super feminist opinion) it stems of insecurity of the men. The more modern thinking progressive men are not threatened by women making their own decisions or driving or working, but it is the old school fellas who make me want to claw my eyes out. So while Daniel is filling out his form, one of the men says “Just you, not your wife.”… Ummmm excuse me sir... you tryin' to fight me sir?!?! Let me tell you what you can do with that macho comment... You can suck it buddy! It’s on now! Sign my butt up because I am giving you a bag of my blood even if that means I have to suck it out myself! And thus my first Saudi Arabian blood drive experience began…
Daniel filled out the form for me and the nurse-man asked if we were healthy. No joke, that was his exact question, "Are you healthy?". Good to know that is the baseline for being able to donate blood here. And then came a language barrier… the nurse-man asked “Are you administration?”, to which I replied with “No, I am not working.”. I guess that isn’t what he meant because he asked again and again and again. FINALLY I figured out that he was talking about menstruation! Homie, there is a BIG difference between administration and menstruation! That is a word you really cannot afford to interchange. Regardless, I informed him that I am not bleeding from my love tunnel and moved on… or so I thought. Nope, Mr. Nosey McNosey wanted to know if I was pregnant! WTF you jerk! I am not pregnant… I am just fat… and I am wearing an Abaya that doesn't exactly provide a slimming effect!
So now that I am officially insulted, I go to my unsanitary lounger and give the guy my arm to stab and pump out some blood. Daniel is finishing his bag and the same nurse-man walks over to my lounger and starts picking on me! “Did you cry?”… No I didn’t cry! I am a woman, a WO-MAN! I was built to push out a watermelon through a lemon hole; I am pretty sure I can give blood at your unsanitary station. Daniel comes over and the nurse-man completes his string of ridiculous comments by telling Daniel that he needs to carry me out to the car when I am done. He tells him it would be nice and that he would carry his wife, but his wife is too fat to lift! WHO SAYS THAT?!?! This guy officially needed to by punched in the face! Thank God I am done with my bag… we need to go!
They took out my needle, bandaged me up and then stood in front of me with my blood bag and a pen asking me what blood type I was. #1 – I don’t know. #2 – Is that what yall do? You just take someone’s word that they are a certain blood type? Test it! Please Jesus, I pray I never need a blood transfusion in this country! I am seriously sketched out. But, we did a good deed and contributed to saving some Saudi lives. So bravo to us, but next time we go out of coffee, I just want coffee!
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