cyphomandra

Couple weeks ago I went to donate platelets. I've fallen into doing that this year, and it's kind of nice. It takes a couple hours, but they set up the TV for you to watch something and it's let me catch up on Mystery Science Theater 3000 some. Plus there's an almost unsettling number of gifts given for donating.

What takes a couple hours is that they can only remove the whole blood from you, so they do that, filter out the platelets, and return the rest to your other arm. And when I went to do that the start of this month, I had a curious failure. The needle in my left arm, taking out blood, was doing fune, but the needle in my right just wasn't making contact. The saline they were trying to inject wouldn't get into my vein and it just produced a small bruise. They tried a couple times but couldn't succeed. So I went home with a failed donation.

Thing is you can donate platelets in principle every week, and especially when there's nothing but the need for my elbow to heal up, and I went back in last Monday. Since I'd had the failure last time I figured the thing to do was draw blood out from my right arm and put the filtered blood back in my left, and give things the chance to balance. Getting the return needle in went just fine; apparently my left arm is really good for this stuff. But the right arm? They could figure where there were two veins either of which were viable but they bent off in weird directions, apparently, and while they finally got a needle into one of them, they also picked up some debris material so that none of the blood could get into the needle rather than make another bruise. The other vein might have been workable but it was too close to the already-present damage so there wasn't any using it. So that's two failures in a row and I'm plum out of arms to try donating with.

They did give me the Red Cross Pac-Man socks that are the gift for people donating platelets through to December 7th, though, which is kind.

More pictures here from the Musée des Arts Forains from our layover in Paris:

Swan-boat chariot on the the carousel with the fine steps. You can see hooks that I guess were once for reins, like a swan would let you get away with reins. That or it needs readers.

And a sheep, another rare animal for carousels.

Couple of figures on balconies that, it turns out, would move and 'sing' along to a massive organ, making this part of a huge mechanical performance.

More of the mechanism, part of a show that we got to see.

And a comic foreground, ready for you to poke your head into.

Looking back again at the carousel. You can see the sides of other chariots hug on the walls in the background.

Trivia: Shortly before accepting the 1922 Nobel Prize in Physics for his work on the quantum-mechanical model of atomic structure, Niels Bohr received a telegram from György Hevesy and Dirk Coster, who had just isolated the element hafnium on their first attempt, sifting through zirconium which Bohr's model predicted would have the not-yet-discovered element's closest chemical analogue. Bohr announced the discovery at his acceptance speech. Source: The Disappearing Spoon: And Other True Tales of Madness, Love, and the History of the World From the Periodic Table of the Elements, Sam Kean.

Currently Reading: The New York Game: Baseball and the Rise of a New City, Kevin Baker.