If you prick me, do I not bleed?

Today I went to get an HIV test so I could be added to the blood bank donation list - in case of a mass casualty. Comforting I know. Having been blessed so far with not having to go to Medical, I was a little lost on how to get into it. As you can see, it has three doors on this side, two more on the other ends, and they all look like probably ports of entry.

Door #1, Door #2, or Door #3?

So, like the Nubi (new person) that I am I stood out front for a while trying to pick up the hints that would point me in the right direction. Climbing up the front stairs I had narrowed it down to the right two thinking most people tend to go right anyways. Happening to look down there was a rugged piece of carpet, or at least something resembling a rough texture, that led to the far right door. Thinking it must be a path I opened that door and entered the strange world of medical. With narrow hallways and green curtains, question filled voices and purple gloves, I had found my way in, and like Alice, I wandered through my own rabbit hole until someone looked up and noticed I was there.

I was told I would need to give blood, so it could be tested, and then I would be added to the list. Before coming I had thought they would only need some sort of verbal confirmation of my blood type, not an actual specimen; but since I had come so far, I figured I would see the experience through.

Slipping on her purple latex gloves that matched her patterned smock, the blood nurse (for I was told there was only person her handled the blood drive) did some tapping on my arm and then looked up puzzled.

"I'm dehydrated," I warned her. "I'm always dehydrated."

"I'll see what I can do," she answered still not looking to confident.

She stuck the needle in, and we looked at the vial together. Nothing. No blood, no fluid, nothing but vacuumed air crept up the tube. She looked at me perplexed and I shrugged.

"I'm dehydrated."

She nodded still confused, but pulled the needle out and figured she would try the other arm. Except when she pulled the needle out it left no mark.

"I'm not even going to give you a band-aid," she explained looking at where she had just pricked me. "You're not even bleeding."

For some reason her comment saddened me and like a child I felt disappointed.

The other arm apparently was less dehydrated and I was able to give the sample as needed. Just so you know, the left arms a winner. The right? Bionic, not even flesh and blood.

So if you prick me, at least here in Antarctica, I will not bleed - mostly.