I posted a thoughtless comment to another blog recently about how annoying the Red Cross is with their incessant phone solicitations. Another commenter pointed out the obvious; they are calling because they need my blood. D'oh.
I decided to get over myself and my perceived inconveniences, so when they called last night I actually answered the phone and scheduled an appointment for this morning. Somehow I had managed to forget the most important thing with blood donation. It helps someone in need. I can give two hours of my life every so often if it means that someone else is helped by what I do.
Now I'm in my least favorite phase of blood donation- the hours spent in post donation with the stretchy band wrapped so tightly around my arm that it is a constant source of irritation. Do I really have to leave it on for 4-5 hours?
My favorite part is the juice and cookies, obviously.
4 comments:
Both fortunately and unfortunately (the first because I'm squeamish about blood) the Red Cross will not let me donate. I lived in Europe for more than six months during the Mad Cow years, you see, and so I am barred from blood donation until... so far, forever.
My blood type? O-, of course.
We have blood drives at my office every six weeks, and they really push you to give. I have anemia, though, so I passed the giving test just once. I was wiped and white and near collapse ... until I drank a frozen margarita. I should worry, shouldn't I?
The guy who drew my blood said "alcohol is not your friend today." It was especially odd coming from someone who didn't even look old enough to legally buy beer.
I'm O+.
Bless you for donating blood. Little Parker is about to go in for a transfusion...we sometimes forget the need don't we? I know I do.
BTW, I clicked and read your why I am a scientist, loved it. Apparently, I'm raising a house full of them. :)
Post a Comment