Richard Jones is a nineteen-year-old student at Diesel Driving Academy. He is a hardworking student by day and to survive financial struggles, he works as a local waiter at McDonalds at night.
One of his friends in school informed him about a plasma donation campaign near Shreveport Barskdale Highway. To be a qualified donor, one should be an American, eighteen years of age, weighs 110 pounds and must have proof for local residence.
Two hours prior to opening, Richard arrives at the plasma bank and goes through the actual plasma donation (plasmapheresis) for another two hours. Unfortunately, the experience at the bank dissatisfies Richard. He’s interviewed by a local newspaper and he openly admits most of the workers are not welcoming as expected. The proof of residence needs a lot of paper documentations and thorough approval.
“This is my first time here,” Richard said. “I decided to do it because I need quick money for my school project.”
Richard does not also recommend plasma donation for everyone. The processing system is complicated. The paperwork includes terminologies and conditions conveyed in heavy language. Richard thoroughly reads all the documents and a small portion of it says the bank is not legally responsible for certain misfortunes.
“Do not donate your plasma until you are all for it. If some people are at ease while performing this whole process, I salute them. It’s hard to blame them.” Richard added. “But for me, I rather find other means of finding quick money than this.”
For some people like Richard Jones, they consider donating plasma as a legal way of sucking nutrients in the blood system. They might have passed the series of physical examinations but they are not satisfied with the type of treatment they deserve while inside the bank. Plasmapheresis is what they tagged as “vampirization.”