Ow! Yesterday the apheresis machine failed to return my corpuscles into my vein. Instead my elbow swelled a bit and the machine beeped in alarm. Last time I failed to bleed enough, from either arm, to fill the sample tubes. The time before that the tubing had a kink in it and less than half the plasma was collected. And the time before that the machine failed to return my corpuscles at all. The loss of corpuscles means my haemoglobin level may not be high enough (130 Earth units) to make a whole blood donation.“It’s not you, it’s your veins” I have been told. I wonder in what way my veins are not me; and if this is a healthy level of dualism for a medical professional to maintain?
This may not sound like the snappiest line from 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), but it evidently caught the imagination of John Landis, who has worked references to a mythical film of this name into most of his own movies - memorably as the grotty British skinflick watched by an assortment of lycanthropes and zombies in the climax of An American Werewolf in Paris [sic] (1981).
Ghastly Beyond Belief, Neil Gaiman and Kim Newman