Lizzie approached Kurt in the living room, where he sat slumped on a chair, his blood bucket resting between his feet. It was nearly full now, the crimson liquid sloshing gently with every slight movement.
She held up a blood transfusion kit, containing a clear plastic tube connected to a needle on one end and a sterile collection bag on the other. "Alright, give me your wrist."
Kurt extended his arm wearily, and Lizzie rubbed the inside of his wrist with an alcohol-soaked cotton swab, cleaning the area in small circles.
The sharp smell of antiseptic filled the air, and Kurt watched as she expertly inserted the needle into his vein. Blood began flowing immediately, traveling through the tube and into the bag.
She worked quickly, securing the needle with medical tape, then carefully bandaged his other hand, the one he'd been bleeding into the bucket with. The wrapping was neat, professional, and when she finished, she stepped back with a satisfied nod.
