The new vampires

Last night I was hanging out with my Couchsurfing host and her other three surfers, two of which I want to write about briefly. They were people I wouldn't have encountered had I not couchsurfed in the South. I soon realised that they actually lived in Raleigh, and were couchsurfing because they were 'between places'.

The pregnant couple's names were Alana and Herb. Alana was a 33 year old Caucasian woman, 7 months pregnant and easily 350 pounds. Herb was a 24 year old African American man. Herb was out in Raleigh looking for work, so that Alana 'would have time to heal' after the pregnancy. I saw that Herb had marks all up and down his arm, and considered the possibility that he was a junkie. We got onto the topic of drugs, and he said that he was boring and didn't drink, smoke, or do drugs. I asked him, with a candor that is unlike me, what was with all the marks on his arms if he didn't do drugs. He replied that he donated plasma. I asked for how long. He said it had been his and Alana's primary income source for 8 1/2 weeks. He said that CSL plasma in Durham, about half an hour from Raleigh, paid more than Biomach in San Diego, but BioMat gave you cash instead of a debit payment.

Both wouldn't let you donate more than twice in 48 hours, otherwise I am sure Herb would've donated more frequently. He said he knew people that donated year round. I asked whether they both donated, and Alana said she would once the baby was born.

I asked him whether he was concerned about donating that much plasma, and he refused to even entertain the possibility that it was doing damage to his immune system. He said the only thing that bothered him was they make you stay 4 hours but don't pay you by the hour. Then he told me that for a while he felt like he was doing good by donating as regularly as he did, because he was helping sick people. But one day, he asked the nurse where the plasma was going and she said that it was used by pharmaceutical companies, to make tylenol, and by the military. Again, he said he didn't want to think about the enormous amount of plasma he donates being used to make bombs. The idea visibly upset him--his eyes glazed over and he stopped looking at me as we talked. Eventually I had to walk back to my surfer's house (I had stayed with Stephanie, their host, the night before) because it was too upsetting. I told them that I would stay in touch on Couchsurfing, that I would add them as friends, and that I wanted to see some baby pictures, and this made them happy. They squeezed my hand as we said goodbye. They were that glad to have made a friend.

I don't think they realised how disturbed I was by their story.