Have A Pint on Me

I did it. I gave blood today. I had said I would do it before February 14, and I did. It wasn't so bad, and I didn't pass out afterwards, so it was a good thing.

I didn't think it might happen. Last night Insomnia paid me a visit until 2 am. Once he left, my stomach decided at 3 am that it needed to expel whatever undesirable element I had placed in it. I finally got to bed and sleep until 5 am, when Shaggy the Cat decided to claw the outside screen, wanting to be let in the window. He wasn't.

When I got up, Steve found that his two-month-old new windshield had a huge crack in it, which meant I would return to the place of purchase to discuss getting a new one. In the interim, I got an email from Molly saying she was having significant boyfriend issues. Somehow in the midst of all of this, I forgot about my macrobiotic brown rice, and remembered it just in time to notice its inedible rock-like texture. With a night/morning like this, I seriously considered cancelling the blood appointment.

But I thought a little harder and decided that I really didn't feel bad, I really wanted to do this, and there was really no reason I shouldn't. So I did. As I sat there, squeezing the rubber squeezy thing and watching the blood flow from my vein, it was kind of neat. I imagined where my pint of blood would go. Would it be a child, or a car accident victim, or a middle-age lady getting her gall bladder removed?

In the end, it really didn't matter. I did something for the first time, something that could have a real effect on someone else. Something that didn't cost me anything, that my body would replenish, and that could save some one's life. How often can I do that while sitting on a stretcher watching tv? For me, hopefully every few months!