She’s Usually So Sanguine
The ponies of Equestria were accustomed to disasters. Calamities befell the kingdom on a regular basis.
But the crises that Equestria faced were almost always the result of some evil creature either trying to take over the kingdom or steal the citizens’ magic. The residents of Equestria weren’t accustomed to any other type of disasters. They especially weren’t accustomed to disasters that resulted in ponies getting hurt.
But recently, seismic activity – ordinary seismic activity not caused by any malevolent force trying to overthrow the princesses – caused a portion of Canterlot Mountain to collapse. Hundreds of Canterlot citizens had been seriously injured, resulting in a nationwide call for aid.
Lyra Heartstrings considered herself lucky – neither her parents nor any of her friends had been hurt in the disaster. However, if Twinkleshine had been at home instead of at work when it happened, things would have been very different. For Lyra, that brought into sharp focus how devastated the victims and their families were. She vowed to do whatever she could to help those ponies who weren’t as lucky as her and her friends.
She and Bon Bon had already donated bits to the relief effort. And she was awaiting word on whether her band would be accepted to perform at the upcoming charity concert. In the meantime, a call went out for blood donations – with so many injured ponies, Equestria’s reserves were dangerously close to running out.
Bon Bon wanted to help with that – she had donated blood a few times when she lived on the base during her classified service as a monster-hunting operative. But less than a year ago, she had had a medical emergency that required a transfusion. As a result, she was currently ineligible to donate blood.
Lyra was determined to do her part – not only to make up for what her wife couldn’t do, but because she felt sympathy for those who had been injured. If it had been her family and friends, she would have wanted every eligible citizen to come forward and donate the blood that was so desperately needed.
There was only one problem.
Lyra was terrified of needles.
She knew it was an irrational fear. She was even fairly sure why she had it – many years ago, an elderly pediatrician once needed several tries to administer a shot to a wriggly, six-year-old Lyra.
But that didn’t change the fact that she tried to stay away from needles unless it was absolutely necessary. When she had gone to Carousel Boutique to have her wedding dress properly fitted, her entire body stiffened any time Rarity inserted a pin near her. When her doctor needed to take a blood sample as part of a routine physical, Lyra had seriously suggested being anesthetized for it.
But then she remembered the headlines. She put herself in the shoes of the ponies who hadn’t been as fortunate as her. And she listened to Bon Bon’s gentle assurances that she could do anything she put her mind to.
Which was how she found herself sitting in a makeshift waiting area in town hall – because of space limitations at the hospital, the hall was serving as the blood donation headquarters. Nurses from nearby Baltimare had set up four different sections within the open space. Lyra was sitting, with Bon Bon directly to her left, in the first section, a simple waiting area made up of chairs arranged in three rows.
Lyra had finished looking at the pre-donation reading materials. They informed her, among other things, that the nurses would have to shave two small patches – each about the size of a postage stamp – from her coat. She expected that, as the same thing had happened when Bon Bon needed IVs during her stay in the hospital.
With the reading materials returned, there was nothing to do except wait for someone to call for donor number 74. Bon Bon used the time to draw on her prior experiences and explain what was going to happen.
“When they call your number, they’ll take you into one of those little booths over there” – she pointed to some partition screens that had been set up near the wall – “where they’ll give you kind of a mini physical. Then they’ll ask you a bunch of embarrassing questions about your private life to make sure your blood is safe to give.”
“What kind of questions?” Lyra asked.
Bon Bon’s voice got softer. She tilted her head up toward Lyra’s ear. “The most awkward ones are about who you’ve had sex with.”
Lyra contemplated that for a moment. “I’m having a hard time picturing you discussing that with anypony.”
“Well, it was a little easier once I told myself that they’re medical professionals… and I was probably never going to see them ever again. Also, back then, my answer for any question beginning with ‘Have you ever had sex with’ was ‘No.’”
“But you’re going to be okay talking about that now?”
“They aren’t going to ask me anything. You’re going to be the only one over there. It’s all confidential. Just you and the nurse.”
“You said you’d be by my side the whole time!”
“For everything except that. Those are the rules. Once you’re done with the questions, I’ll be right by your side again all the way through the end.”
Bon Bon gave her a comforting smile. Lyra responded with a nearly imperceptible nod. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, taking in the room. A phonograph was set up by the far wall, distant enough that it couldn’t be heard clearly from the waiting area. By the wall that was opposite the booths, several ponies sat around a table. Even though they were smiling and chatting, Lyra really didn’t like the looks of the bandages they were all wearing around their bodies.
One of the nurses called for number 73. Another couple of minutes passed. Lyra began to nervously bounce her left foreleg on her chair.
“All this waiting isn’t making things any easier,” she said.
“It’s a slow process,” Bon Bon admitted. “Especially with this many ponies here.”
“This is only giving me more time to think about all the ways this can go wrong.”
“Nothing’s going to go wrong,” Bon Bon assured her. She motioned toward the other areas in the room. “Everypony who donates is leaving here perfectly fine.”
“That just means the odds are going up that it’s going to be me when something bad does happen.”
“I promise you’ll be okay.” She gave her another smile, this time with more of a smirk. “Think of it this way: I wouldn’t let them do anything bad to you.”
Lyra briefly chuckled. But soon, she was right back to bouncing her foreleg.
“You’ve got to relax,” Bon Bon said. “If your pulse is too fast, they won’t let you donate.” She raised her right foreleg, picked up Lyra’s hoof, and held it in hers.
Lyra looked at her. “Only my hoof?”
“I’m trying to get your heart rate down.”
Lyra smiled.
“Seventy-four!” one of the nurses shouted.
Bon Bon let go of her hoof as Lyra stepped down onto the floor. “I’ll be right here when you’re done with the screening,” she said. “Oh, and let the nurse know that this is your first time so they can show you that everything will be okay.”
Lyra hadn’t moved any farther, so Bon Bon leaned down to quickly nuzzle her. “I know you can do this,” she said.
Lyra forced herself to walk over to a unicorn who introduced herself as Nurse Valetudo as she led her to the one empty booth. Inside, there was barely enough room for a small table placed against the corner and two stools, one on each of the open sides of the table. The nurse pointed to where Lyra should sit and then slid another partition panel across the opening in the booth, enclosing the space. Lyra didn’t like that, but she told herself that if she really needed to, she could knock the panel down to escape.
As she sat on her stool, Lyra said, “This is my first time doing this, so please go easy on me. I’m kind of nervous.”
The nurse took the other stool. “That’s all right,” she said. “A lot of ponies are nervous their first time. I’ll explain everything as I go along and if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. And thank you for coming out to donate blood today.”
She levitated a form and a quill and ink onto the table. “The first thing I’m going to do is take down your name and address.”
“Why?” Lyra asked.
“We keep a database of all of our donors. Also, in order to make sure your blood is safe to give to another pony, we test it first. If any of the tests come back positive, we need to know how to contact you with the results. Now, I know you read this while you were waiting, but because it’s important, I’ll repeat it: Some blood-borne diseases take a few days before they show up in tests, so you should not donate blood to find out if you have anything. If that’s why you’re here, I can give you a list of places where you can go to get a free, confidential blood test.”
“That happens?”
“It could happen. And we need to make sure that the patients receiving this blood don’t get infected with anything. As we go along, if at any point you think your blood might not be safe to give, let me know. We can stop at any time and for any reason. You don’t even have to give a reason, although everything here is confidential. We’d rather have slightly less blood on reserve than have even one half-gallon of blood that could hurt somepony.”
“You said I can stop at any time and for any reason? What if it isn’t health related?”
“Any reason whatsoever. We don’t want to pressure you into doing anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
Lyra decided not to point out that the very idea of a pony taking her blood made her uncomfortable. Instead, she gave the nurse her name and address.
“Date of birth?”
Lyra told her.
“About how much do you weigh today?”
“Aren’t you the one who measures that?”
“We only need your approximation. If a pony is too lightweight, it could be dangerous for them to give up too much blood.”
“I haven’t weighed myself in a while.”
“Just your best guess – it doesn’t have to be exact. To my eyes, you look like you should be fine, but we have to have some number on the form.”
Lyra told the nurse her approximate weight.
“Do you happen to know what blood type you are?”
“No. I know it isn’t compatible with my wife’s, but I don’t remember which letter it is.”
“That’s all right. We’ll find out when we test it. Afterward, we’ll send you a donor card and that’ll have your type printed on it.”
“Wait – go back. When you said you thought my weight should be fine, what did you mean by that?”
“A pony has to be really lightweight before they get into the range where it’s dangerous for them to give blood. You look trim, but not so much that I was worried your weight would be too low.”
“Oh, okay. So long as you weren’t calling me fat.” She smiled to let the nurse know that she was just giving her a hard time.
“I didn’t mean to imply that at all. Medically, based on your height and weight, I can say that you are officially not fat.”
“Heh.” She relaxed on her stool a little bit. “I like you better than my regular doctor. She’s always bothering me about how much fresh grass I should eat.”
“I can’t advise you on that. I’m just here to help you with your donation.” She set down the quill. “Next, I’ll check your blood pressure.”
Lyra didn’t have any problem with that part of the exam. She also didn’t mind when the nurse placed a thermometer in her mouth and took her pulse. Even though she was in an enclosed space with an unfamiliar pony, she started to feel less nervous.
“Everything looks good so far,” the nurse said. “Please place your foreleg on the table and turn it so I can get to the back side, just above your hoof.”
Lyra did so.
“Now I’m going to shave a small bit of your coat and prick your skin.”
The nervousness came back and brought some undistilled fear along with it. Lyra didn’t even want to see the needle. She felt uneasy enough looking at the sharp blade on the tiny razor, even though the nurse expertly shaved a small square without nicking her.
After the nurse put the razor away, Lyra could only watch as she brought out, among other things, a small spring-loaded lancet. After cleaning the exposed skin with some antiseptic and a small piece of cloth, the nurse levitated the sharp metal end over the open area.
And then she released the spring.
It took all of Lyra’s focus not to jerk her hoof away. She sucked air through her teeth as the nurse used a second small cloth to wipe away the first bit of blood that appeared, then picked up the next droplet with a thin tube. The nurse levitated that tube over a larger tube of blue liquid and released the blood, which slowly sank to the bottom.
“You’re in good health,” the nurse said as she placed the used materials into a hazardous waste bin and made another mark on the form. She placed a piece of gauze over the exposed skin and wrapped a strip of cloth around the leg.
“Wait… was that it?” Lyra asked.
“That was it,” she confirmed.
“You don’t have to take any more?”
“Nope.”
“So does that mean I can go now?”
“Go?”
“Because I’m done with the blood donation.”
“Oh, I’m sorry – I misunderstood you. That was the test to make sure your hemoglobin levels were okay. The actual blood donation happens out on the cots, where you saw all those other ponies lying down.”
“I was hoping that they were the advanced givers, donating extra blood.”
“Everypony gives the same amount.” She dipped the quill in the ink again. “You’ll head out there in a couple of minutes.”
“So you have to take my blood before you take my blood?”
“Not take. Test.”
“How much blood am I going to have left after all of this?”
“About nine-tenths of what you normally have.”
Lyra’s eyes went wide.
“That’s more than enough for you to go about your day with. And your body will replace the liquid within one or two days.”
“Replace it with what?”
“New plasma.”
A few seconds passed. “Okay…” Lyra said. “I know I started it, but talking about this is making me a little queasy.”
“If you need to put your head down and take a break, we can. I can process another pony and then see if you feel better.”
“No… I’m just being dramatic. I think. How much more do you have to do to me?”
“The only thing left is the questionnaire. Most of it isn’t directly about blood.”
“Okay. Let’s keep going.”
“All right. I’m going to ask you a series of questions about your health history to make sure that there isn’t anything that might make your donation unsafe to give to another pony.”
“Ready.”
The nurse read the first question printed on the form. “Are you feeling healthy and well today?”
“As well as I can be considering you just jabbed a needle into me.”
“I have to check yes or no.”
“Yes.”
The nurse made a mark on the form.
“Are you currently taking an antibiotic?”
“No.”
The nurse made another mark on the form, then asked the next question. And the next. As the questions continued, Lyra confirmed that she wasn’t taking any other medications and that she hadn’t recently received any vaccinations.
“In the past twelve months, have you had a blood transfusion?”
“No.”
“In the past twelve months, have you had a transplant such as organ, tissue, or marrow?”
“Also no.”
“In the past twelve months, have you been treated for syphilis or gonorrhea?”
“No and no.”
The questions continued, with Lyra answering in the negative to all of the medical ones. It occurred to her that even though Bon Bon and the nurse had each assured her that the process was confidential, her answers were still being recorded on a piece of paper.
Then the nurse said, “For the following questions, ‘sexual contact’ is defined as any contact between genitals as well as between genitals and the mouth or anus, regardless of whether a condom was used. In the past twelve months, have you had sexual contact with a pony who has hepatitis?”
“No.”
“In the past twelve months, have you had sexual contact with a prostitute or anypony else who takes money or drugs or other payment for sex?”
“Wow, this is escalating. But no.”
“In the past twelve months, have you had sexual contact with anypony who has ever used needles to take drugs or steroids, or anything not prescribed by their doctor?”
“Wait… ever?”
“Correct.”
“By drugs, does that include medicine drugs? Like an IV?”
“Unauthorized or illegal drugs. Basically, anything taken by needle that a doctor didn’t say to take. I’m not here to cast judgment or report anypony – I just have to prevent the risk of spreading possible infections from potentially shared needles.”
Lyra thought for a moment. She was almost positive that Bon Bon had never done any kind of drugs – she didn’t seem like the type to have even experimented during her youth. But Lyra realized that because she had always assumed that that wasn’t part of Bon Bon’s past, they had never discussed it, so she didn’t know for certain. Even though she would have been shocked to find out it was true.
“I’m not completely sure. Can I ask my wife?”
“If you’d like.”
Rather than push the partition aside to open up the booth and poke her head out, Lyra stood with her hind legs on the stool and rested her forelegs on top of the partition so her head was sticking up over the top. Remembering one of the other questions, she shouted across the hall toward the waiting area.
“HEY, BON BON! HAVE YOU EVER HAD GONORRHEA?!?”
Lyra watched as a completely mortified look appeared on Bon Bon’s face. Then, a couple of seconds later, a look of comprehension as Bon Bon realized that Lyra wouldn’t have yelled that if she hadn’t been confident of the answer.
Cheerfully, she shouted back, “Nope! You?!”
“Can’t say as I have!”
Lyra made a “come over here” motion with her head. Bon Bon got up and walked across the room. As she did, Lyra climbed down off the stool and opened the partition to her booth.
When Bon Bon stuck her head in, Lyra looked over at the form the nurse was using and read, “In the past twelve months, have I had sexual contact with anypony who has ever used needles to take drugs or steroids, or anything not prescribed by their doctor?”
“No,” Bon Bon said, “you haven’t. And if you don’t watch it, I know what the answer is going to be to ‘In the next twelve months, will you have sexual contact with anypony.’”
As the nurse made another mark on the form, Bon Bon stepped back and closed the partition. Lyra sat back down.
The questions continued. After Lyra had given a total of about 40 answers, the nurse asked her to sign the bottom of the form, which indicated that she understood the very minor risks associated with donating blood. She did so, at which point the nurse opened the partition.
“All right,” she said. “It’s time for you to lie down on one of the cots. Then your blood donation will begin.”
Lyra stepped out, experiencing the exact same sensation she felt in her stomach when she was in a roller coaster as it began its initial ascent and was just moments away from reaching the peak. Bon Bon, who had only moved a few strides away from the booth, walked up and stood shoulder to shoulder with her.
The nurse asked, “Do you have a preference as to which foreleg you’d like to use?”
Lyra turned to her side. “Do I?”
Bon Bon said, “Not really. I like to use my non-dominant leg, so if you want, you could request your right.”
“Okay,” Lyra said. “My right.”
The nurse led her to a stiff cot and instructed her to lie down on her back. Lyra did so, placing her head on a small pillow.
“Now raise your foreleg toward your head and rest it on the cushion.”
Lyra set her right foreleg on a long, firm cushion sitting on the cot next to her head. The nurse then shaved another small patch of her coat away, at the area where her foreleg met her barrel.
“We do it here so when you’re standing normally, it doesn’t show,” she explained. She put the razor away. “The nurse who will be drawing your blood will be over in a couple of minutes. You can relax until then.”
Before Lyra could respond with a skeptical “Relax?!,” Bon Bon, who was on the left side of the cot, said, “Am I out of the way if I stand here to help keep Lyra calm?”
The nurse opened her mouth to speak, then paused and looked at Lyra. “That should be fine,” she said, then left to get the other nurse.
After she walked away, Bon Bon looked down. “Are you doing okay?” she asked Lyra.
“I guess so. It’s getting more real now.”
Bon Bon held Lyra’s left hoof in hers. “It’s okay to be a little nervous,” she said.
“How about extremely scared?”
“That’s okay, too. Like I said, I’m right here for the rest of the time.” She looked at Lyra’s shaking hoof. “Wow, you aren’t exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not,” Lyra said. “It’s always been my understanding that if blood is leaving your body, it’s a bad thing.”
Bon Bon chuckled. “It’ll all be over soon,” she assured her.
“Please rephrase that.”
It took Bon Bon a moment to understand. “Sorry,” she said. “Soon, you’ll be finished. No, wait. You don’t have much longer. No, wait…”
Keeping her voice low, Lyra pretended to call out, “Can I have some other pony by my side to comfort me?”
Bon Bon playfully pressed Lyra’s left hoof against the cot. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going normally.”
“So it isn’t strange that a different nurse is going to be taking my blood?”
“Nope, that’s normal.”
“Is it good or bad that my heart is beating this fast? And I can feel it?”
Bon Bon gently placed her hoof on Lyra’s chest for confirmation. “That can be solved with some deep, calming breaths,” she said. “Look at me.”
Following Bon Bon’s lead, Lyra slowly inhaled and exhaled a few times. Then she just lay there. Time passed. The phonograph played a record produced about forty years ago.
As she continued to lie on the cot, Lyra said, “I feel a weird draft on this patch of coat that they shaved.”
“That’s normal, too.”
A different unicorn nurse walked up, levitating a translucent plastic bag wrapped in translucent flexible tubing. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Nurse Epione.” She set the equipment down by Lyra’s side on the cot.
“I’m Lyra Heartstrings. This is Bon Bon, my wife. She’s helping me because this is my first time and she’s done it before.”
“Well, thank you for donating,” the nurse said. “I’ll make this all as easy as possible.” She brought up a blood pressure cuff that was hanging from the cot and wrapped it around Lyra’s right foreleg. “The first thing I’m going to do is make sure I can find your vein.” She placed a small foam ball in Lyra’s right pastern, between the fetlock and hoof, and then pumped up the cuff. “Squeeze the ball three times, then hold.”
Lyra did so. The nurse gently prodded the exposed patch of skin with her hoof. “You’ve got a good vein, right there. That’s the one I’ll use. You can relax your grip.” Lyra stopped squeezing the ball and the nurse released the pressure on the cuff.
As the nurse levitated some more supplies into position, Lyra said, “When you do this, how much will I feel the needle? It’s not going to hurt like getting a shot, is it?”
Before the nurse could respond, Bon Bon said, “I’ll be honest – it is going to hurt a little. The needle they use is bigger than the ones they use to give you a shot.”
Lyra could feel her face pale.
“Just a little bit bigger!” Bon Bon said.
The nurse added, “It’s kind of a pinching sensation.”
“You’re tougher than that,” Bon Bon said, taking Lyra’s hoof in hers again. “Just stay focused on me. Don’t think about what’s going on over there.”
Nurse Epione said, “This is all completely voluntary. It’s okay if you don’t want to do this.”
Lyra said, “I know. I want to do this, but I don’t. I mean, I want to do this… I’m just kind of nervous.” She appreciated that Bon Bon didn’t call her out for underexaggerating. “But I do want to give blood. Let’s do this. Let’s get this over with.”
“Okay,” the nurse said. “I’m going to prepare this shaved area for the donation. Do you have any allergies to iodine?”
“No.”
Lyra could hear some kind of tearing sound to her right, but she chose to keep her eyes focused on Bon Bon’s face to her left. Still, she could sense that the nurse was levitating something closer and closer to her exposed patch of skin. She winced when she felt the object make contact. Then she relaxed when she realized the nurse was wiping the area with iodine and a small cloth.
Bon Bon, seeing her reaction, said, “She’s just cleaning your skin.”
The nurse added, “This is to ensure that no microbes get into the blood when we collect it.” After what felt like more cleaning than was necessary, she threw the cloth away and said, “While that dries, I’m going to get everything else ready.”
Lyra looked over as the nurse unwrapped the tubing from around the bag. She hung the bag and some small test tubes off the side of the cot, out of Lyra’s eyeline. After examining the tubing for any tangles or kinks, she levitated an elastic band and attached the tubing to Lyra’s right foreleg, between her knee and where she was holding the ball.
Next, the nurse began to use her magic to remove label stickers from a sheet and attach them to the equipment and the form that contained Lyra’s information and answers to the health questions.
Looking back to her left, Lyra said, “It’s knowing that it’s coming that’s killing me. This feels like it’s taking forever.”
Bon Bon said, “This is all a normal part of the process. Everything she’s doing is important to make sure that everything is safe and that nothing can go wrong.”
“Okay,” Lyra said. “If it means that nothing will go wrong.”
“Exactly.”
While looking at the form, the nurse said, “Once more, just so I can confirm that everything matches: Please tell me your name and the month and date of your birth.”
Lyra did so.
The nurse then switched to picking up something else in her magic. Lyra was pretty sure she knew what it was, though she didn’t dare look at it.
“Are you ready for the needle?” the nurse asked.
For a couple of seconds, Lyra was silent. Finally, she said, “Do it before I change my mind.”
The nurse inflated the blood pressure cuff again. “Squeeze the ball three times, then hold.”
Lyra squeezed and held.
Bon Bon said, “Just keep looking at me. Grip my hoof. You don’t have to look at what she’s doing. I never looked – it’s fine.”
“You’re going to feel a pinching sensation.”
Lyra locked her gaze on Bon Bon. She felt the nurse hold down her foreleg to keep it steady. The needle got closer. Closer.
Suddenly, pain. The needle had pierced her skin. The needle was in her vein!
Lyra’s entire body went rigid. She squeezed Bon Bon’s hoof with all of her strength, causing her wife to grimace a little bit.
“It’s all right,” Bon Bon said. “You’re fine. That was the hardest part.”
The nurse loosened the blood pressure cuff. “You can relax your grip,” she said. “From here on, briefly squeeze the ball every five seconds.”
“Try to stop tensing your body,” Bon Bon said. “You’re not going to be able to do that for the next fifteen to twenty minutes.”
“Fifteen to twenty minutes?!”
The nurse nodded, which Lyra barely saw in her peripheral vision. “That’s about how long it takes.”
“This is way worse than getting a shot!”
Bon Bon said, “But it’s not so bad that you can’t handle it, right?”
A pause. “I guess…”
Slowly, Lyra tried to relax her back and her rear legs, all while keeping her right foreleg perfectly still. Then she remembered the nurse’s instruction and squeezed the ball.
“Good,” Bon Bon said. “Just keep focusing on the ball. Don’t even think about that other part of your leg.”
The nurse gently placed a small piece of gauze over the needle insertion point. Lyra dared to look to her right again, though she made sure not to look down toward her barrel.
“Are you feeling all right?” the nurse asked. “Do you feel any kind of change in temperature?”
Lyra focused on herself. “I feel the same,” she said. “Except for my leg.”
“That’s to be expected. If you feel like you’re getting warmer or colder, or if you feel a tingling sensation, let me know.”
“I definitely will.”
The nurse looked her over. “Everything is going great. Just keep squeezing that ball every five seconds.”
Lyra squeezed the ball. One, two, three, four, five. She squeezed again. One, two, three, four, five. And again.
“Perfect,” the nurse said. She levitated a piece of paper onto the cot by Lyra’s right hip and began to step away.
“You’re leaving me?!” Lyra said.
“This is going to take a few minutes,” she said. “I have to see to the other donors. If you need something, call out. Otherwise, just keep squeezing the ball. I’ll come back to check on you before you’re done.”
The nurse left. Lyra turned her head toward the pony standing next to her.
“This is the easy part,” Bon Bon said. “You just lie there and keep squeezing your hoof.”
“The easy part would be if I had stayed home and took a nap.”
Bon Bon laughed. “Just stay focused on me.”
“Okay.” One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five.
Lyra stopped squeezing the ball.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just realized that my blood is flowing out of my body. Like, really realized it.”
“Don’t think about that. Just keep counting. One, two, three, four, five.”
“Wait… have I been saying that out loud?”
“Under your breath, yeah.”
Lyra tilted her head back. “I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re somepony who’s doing something to help others. I’m proud of you. Now squeeze.”
Lyra squeezed the ball and Bon Bon’s hoof at the same time. One, two, three, four, five. Another squeeze. One, two, three, four, five. With nothing to do but count, she stared up into the distance and began to think about her blood again.
Then she looked at Bon Bon, who was sticking her tongue straight out, perfectly perpendicular to her face. After a few seconds, she switched to sticking out only her front teeth.
“Bon Bon, what are you doing?”
“I’m distracting you. By making silly faces.”
Lyra couldn’t help but snicker.
“See? It’s working.”
“No – I’m laughing because you are terrible at making faces.”
Bon Bon’s eyelids lowered halfway. “Well… I’m still distracting you.”
“I’ll say. Is this the first time in your life you’ve ever tried to do that?”
For the next couple of minutes, Lyra attempted to teach her how to make faces. Occasionally, Bon Bon would squeeze her hoof when she forgot to squeeze the ball for a few seconds.
Eventually, her vise grip loosened on Bon Bon’s leg. Noticing this, Bon Bon said, “I bet it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, right?”
“Actually… yeah. You’re right. It doesn’t.”
That’s when the panic set in.
“Oh no – did the needle come out? Am I bleeding?!”
“Relax,” Bon Bon said. She tried to place reassuring pressure on Lyra’s left hoof. “Everything is exactly where it was when you started. You’re just getting used to it. Like I said, you’ve already been through the hardest part.”
“But it’s warm on my foreleg!” She was still afraid to look.
“That because that’s where the tube is. The blood in the tube is warm – that’s what you’re feeling. But it’s all inside the tube, right where it should be.”
At that moment, Nurse Epione walked back over and looked at the bag. “You’re doing great, Lyra,” she said. “You’re about a third of the way there.” She stepped away to check on another donor.
“See?” Bon Bon said. “You’re doing great. I knew you’d be great.”
Lyra relaxed again – or rather, she got as adjacent to “relaxed” as she could get, given the circumstances. She went back to counting, this time being sure to not say the numbers out loud. One, two, three, four, five.
For about a minute, neither pony spoke as Lyra became lost in thought. Finally, she quietly said to Bon Bon, “Lean down here for a second.”
Bon Bon did so, putting her ear near Lyra’s mouth.
Lyra whispered, “Why do they ask if I’ve had a blood transfusion in the past year but not if I’ve had sex with somepony who’s had a blood transfusion? Wouldn’t the risk be the same either way?”
Bon Bon leaned back up, a look of surprised contemplation on her face. After a few seconds, she said, “I… don’t know.”
They went back to being silent. One, two, three, four, five.
Lyra’s eyes wandered a little bit. She had never really examined the town hall’s ceiling before. She still didn’t look down at her right side.
One, two, three, four, five.
Suddenly, she said to Bon Bon, “Oh, just so you know: Nurse Valetudo said that I’m not fat.”
A puzzled look. “I could have told you that.”
“But she’s a nurse – she has to tell the truth. And she said that medically, I’m officially not fat.”
Bon Bon chuckled. “That sounds like a scientific, medical way to say it.”
“Yep. I think I’ll order some stationery and have them print that at the top.”
“That’ll impress ponies.”
“Mm-hmm.”
The conversation petered out. More silence. More squeezing.
Lyra asked, “What did you do to kill time when you did this? It’s not like the nurse is around to talk to.”
“I’d usually just try to balance the post-donation instructions on my hoof and read them over and over again.” Bon Bon let go of Lyra’s leg, walked around to the other side of the cot, used her teeth to pick up the paper by Lyra’s hip, and returned to her spot. Lyra levitated the paper in the air.
Her eye was immediately drawn to one of the headings. “‘Complications After Blood Donation’? Something’s going to go wrong?”
“Calm down,” Bon Bon said. She read the first sentence under the heading: “‘Complications after giving blood are uncommon but can happen.’ It’s like the safety instructions on a zeppelin. You probably won’t need them, but they’re important to know.” She looked at the next paragraph. “If you don’t do any extreme exercise and take care of yourself, you’ll be fine. But if you start to get lightheaded, let me know.”
“Okay,” Lyra said. “I got lightheaded about five minutes ago when the nurse was about to put the needle in.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Oh, and after I had that final glass of champagne near the end of our reception. That made me a little lightheaded.”
“Yeah – I could tell.”
“And about fifteen years ago, at Minuette’s birthday party, when I inhaled a helium balloon.”
Bon Bon simply nodded.
Lyra waited for more. After a couple of seconds, she said, “You’re not going to tell me to stop?”
“Whatever keeps you from thinking about the needle. Now squeeze.”
The two continued to talk. After reading the instruction that Lyra should eat foods rich in iron, they discussed what they would have for dinner. When the subject turned to the phonograph playing nearby, she reflected on the fact that her band really needed to record an album so they could get their music out to more ponies.
As Lyra was wishing that she had brought her lyre along so she could put a tune to the beat of the five count, Nurse Epione returned and looked at the bag.
“You’re all done,” she said.
“Really?”
“Really. Let me just fill these test tubes and I’ll get you on your way.”
After about another minute, the nurse finished manipulating the attached test tubes, picked up the filled bag, and laid it on the cot by Lyra’s hind leg. Without even a warning that she would do it, she then removed the needle from Lyra’s body – there was no real addition or subtraction of pain when it happened.
She placed a small piece of gauze where the needle had been and told Lyra to use her left front hoof to apply pressure.
While the nurse was removing the blood pressure cuff, Lyra noticed the expression on Bon Bon’s face. “What?” she asked.
“Nothing, really,” Bon Bon said. “I never looked over when I donated blood. So I never realized what two quarts of blood looks like.”
Before Lyra could ask for clarification, the nurse instructed her to roll slightly onto her left side, raise her head off the pillow, and keep her right foreleg pointed straight past her head. As she did that, the nurse told her to stop pressing on the gauze, then secured it over her skin by wrapping a stretchy bandage over Lyra’s shoulder, past her neck on the opposite side, and back around again over her chest.
“You’re lucky,” the nurse said. “Years ago, we kept the gauze in place with tape that always pulled out some of the hairs in your coat when you took it off.”
After the nurse had wrapped the bandage around her body three times, Lyra looked at it. “That really stands out,” she said. “It looks like I got into an accident.”
“That’s one of the good things about donating blood,” Bon Bon said. “Ponies see you all bandaged up, they say, ‘What happened to you,’ you say, ‘I just donated blood,’ and then they have to be impressed and say nice things to you.”
“Keep the bandage on for the next few hours,” the nurse said. “No vigorous exercise, intense magic, or any other strenuous activity. Try not to put too much weight on that leg if you can help it for the rest of the day. And drink plenty of extra liquids for the next 24 hours. Are you ready to get up?”
Bon Bon took a step away from the cot. “Take it slow. If you start to feel faint, just lean into me.”
Lyra carefully swung her hind legs onto the floor, placing the weight of her stomach on the side of the cot, then lifted her head. When she did, she experienced a brief moment of dizziness, but it quickly passed and as she moved her forelegs onto the floor, she didn’t have to use Bon Bon as a crutch.
“Are you all right?” the nurse asked.
“Yeah,” Lyra said with no small amount of surprise in her voice. “I am.”
“Head over to the canteen area and stay for at least fifteen minutes,” she said. “Be sure to get something to eat and drink. Thank you very much for donating today.” With that, she levitated the bag away – before Lyra had a chance to really look at it – and walked off to the room where the blood was being stored for transport.
With Bon Bon by her side, Lyra walked over to the final section in the room and sat down at a table with snacks and drinks being given out by a Ponyville volunteer. When Lyra had first arrived at the blood drive to sign in, Bon Bon had dropped off a tray of chocolate-coated peanut clusters for the donors. They had already all been eaten.
Lyra took a glass of fruit punch and a chocolate chip cookie. The volunteer encouraged her to take a second one, so she did.
“Calories consumed after you give blood don’t count,” Bon Bon said.
The two talked to each other and to the other bandaged ponies that came and left, who congratulated Lyra on giving her first half-gallon of blood. After a little more than fifteen minutes, Lyra confirmed that she was feeling all right, so she carefully got up and left town hall alongside Bon Bon.
“Can I get a ride back?” she asked.
“Nice try,” Bon Bon said. “You’re still okay to walk.”
As they strolled through the streets back to their house, Lyra nuzzled her wife. “Thanks for helping me through that,” she said. “I never could have done it without you.”
“You’re the one who conquered her nerves and gave blood,” Bon Bon said. “And now somepony who really needs it will have it, thanks to you.”
“You were right. It feels really good. And my leg doesn’t even hurt all that much.”
“I’m proud of you.” She leaned in, lowering her voice so only Lyra could hear.
“And later tonight, you’re going to find out exactly how proud of you I am.”
A wide smirk appeared on Lyra’s face.
“But the nurse said I’m not supposed to take part in any strenuous activity.”
Bon Bon smirked back.
“Then I guess you’re going to have to just lie there and let me show you.”
-
Author's Note
Yes, I know I put the blood pressure cuff on the wrong side of the needle insertion point. I had to cheat things a little for storytelling purposes.
On a real horse, blood is drawn from the jugular vein in the neck. Anatomically, an equine’s equivalent to the human elbow is up near the barrel (where I have the nurse take Lyra’s blood from). That seemed like a better spot to use for this story, both to more closely mirror the real-world human blood donation experience and to hide the shaved patch of coat.
To the latter point, the equivalent of the human inner elbow would be most easily accessed by having a lying-down Equestrian pony place their foreleg against their barrel. But then ponies would be walking around with exposed patches of skin until their coats grew back, so I cheated that, too. Besides, Equestrian ponies have a much wider range of motion than real-world horses, so who knows where exactly their veins run?
And the half-gallon blood donation quantity isn’t a mistake. I don’t know how heavy an Equestrian pony is, but if a real-world pony weighs about 550-600 pounds (which they do, depending on the breed and size), then they contain about five gallons of blood. So a half-gallon blood donation from an average pony would be the same ratio as a one-pint donation from an average human. (Full-size horses give even more blood than that in a single donation.)
If those numbers don’t work for you because you imagine Equestrian ponies to be significantly smaller than real-world ponies, then just pretend that their word “gallon” refers to a different quantity than ours.
The actual point of this story, though: If you’re eligible, give blood. I once shared Lyra’s apprehensiveness around needles, but I’ve gone on to give multiple gallons of blood over the course of my life. If I can do it, so can you!
