Blood money.
written by Julie R. Neidlinger 9 comments link this post
I'm selling myself for money.
Sometimes, when I want to bring things down the barest basics and figure out something that's bothering me, I go back to the core and I begin strip away the layers of paint and hyperbole that becomes life and see myself as soul, bones, flesh and blood.
Two of those I am, surprisingly, willing to trade and exchange for money.
Goethe need not worry; there is no competition between Faust and myself.
I don't even take asprin, or any prescription drugs. I never even filled my painkiller prescription when I broke my wrist from a horse accident. I shun and scorn OTC medications and prefer to battle out a cold or sinus infection or ear infection on my own. Building my martyr foundation, maybe.
But somewhere, at some level, I tossed that aside and decided I would be willing to take part in a medical study of some random generic drug in exchange for money. Go ahead; give me your drug and let it travel through my flesh and see what it does and take my blood and jot down notes and then pay me.
I hope I don't end up with a third eye, that my hair falls out, that my hands fall off. Partially kidding, of course.
I distinctly remember selling plasma in college because my painting instructor got after me for not having a broad enough palette of oil paints. I couldn't afford paint and didn't want to ask my parents for money. I turned my head, let them stick me in the arm, and traded in plasma for leaf green, raw umber and a hog bristle brush.
People complain about the price of prescription drugs. What is the price of people who need money throwing the proverbial dice and willing to guinea pig-up? For me, the price is in the $900 range.
The poet in me senses something tragic about this, the trading of life and symbolism that is blood for money; blood should and does mean something. The pragmatic in me tells me to quit belly-aching because there's more blood where that came from; might as well do it. I can philosophize about this better and later, knowing I have enough money to meet expenses once the study is over. Perhaps philosophical purists only exist if they have trust funds.
Now I will, if I get in this upcoming study that is about to start, watch my inside elbow turn purple from multiple turns with the plebotomist over the course of a day or so, and three more of morning blood draws. I will get a track, that little scar where the blood flows repeatedly, the marker for where to swab the alcohol, stick out my arm, turn my head and let them take my blood. I will sleep in a bunk-bed dormitory for two nights for three weeks. I will give up caffeine, including chocolate, for three weeks.
I will earn half of the money I need for the February 2007 trip to Nicaragua.
If I get in the study.
Labels: health, my life, pracs
Copyright (c) Julie R. Neidlinger 6/26/2006 12:01:00 AM
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9 Comments:
OH NO! Pracs! I always worry that they may add something to the placebo/meds to brainwash you? Not only that but I heard you have to stand around in your underwear! I don't think they will let you stay up as late either! (I have noticed that you are kinda a niteowl?)
By 
, at
26/6/06 11:54
If you're lucky you'll get the placebo.
By 
girlfriday, at
26/6/06 12:12
you have more guts than I dear....
By , at
26/6/06 12:32
I'm not counting on being lucky. Too much of a realist.
By Julie, at
26/6/06 12:50
I was with you right up until the part where you give up chocolate. Have you lost your ever lovin' mind? Why don't you just let 'em sprinkle spiders all over your body while you're at it? ;-)
Seriously, though, this is interesting. Can't wait to read about your experiences.
By Eric, at
26/6/06 13:36
It is because of the caffeine (that is, chocolate, for me) restriction that I firmly reassure everyone who thinks it's money for nothing that no, I will indeed be earning that money.
Sigh.
By Julie, at
26/6/06 13:42
Everyone, it seems, has a price. Mine would probably be a lot lower given the usual state of my financial well-being. Just want to say I enjoy reading your blog. I haven't posted much on mine of late, but you're welcome to mosey on over and visit at http://fishdancewaves.blogspirit.com/ if you even in the slightest bit interested.
Will
By will humes, at
26/6/06 21:05
Earning the money? In fact you'll be underpaid. No chocolate... you have my eternal, undying admiration.
By Jim, at
28/6/06 09:04
I have discovered a world of non-chocolate snacks.
Shorbread cookies, for example.
It makes it bearable. See me "suffer."
By Julie, at
28/6/06 12:16
