It's the stink of blood and chemicals, I think, as I bounce my knee impatiently on the thin brown carpet pulled tightly against the floor like the last remaining lifeboat in an impossible ocean of dirty, hidden linoleum. The blood is in tiny transparent tubes and is kept in oxygenless chambers and is used for medical research only. Every time the door opens and a blue or green scrubsed woman peeks out or around the window my eyes dart up and the bounce in my leg stops.