I hated the blood. Of everything, it is still the thing that I shudder most at when I remember. I hated that I felt bad and that I needed it. I hated to take it in the summer when the supply was low, and there might be someone who was otherwise healthy but needed it because of an accident. I hated that I could taste it for days and days afterward when it flowed through my port. I hated the feeling of having someone else's cells flowing through the center of me, as if it were some sort of violation of the core of my being. --emmy
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