That's what I am, and the vampires love me. Um, yea, I mean the blood bank. I donated for the first time last year and it was something I'd wanted to do for a long time but was way too chicken to do it. Then, the radio station across the street was doing a blood drive and I was done working for the week, plus they reportedly had pancakes. By the time they got me out of there, the pancakes were gone and I still needed additional nourishment. The lady that took my blood the first time was celebrating her birthday too. She told me to squeeze the stress ball thing and hold it. When I delivered my spawn, the nurses loved that I was not a "roller" and it was easy to get an IV in my arm. I told blood bank lady I have good veins and I might shower her if I held it. She said it would be alright and to just hold it. I warned her, but she didn't listen. She got fireworks for her birthday. I can't look when I get a needle stuck in me, I hate the pinch, why would I want to WATCH? Between that sharp pinch and being drained, I sometimes avoid the calls at the 2 month mark because I know I haven't eaten well enough to handle the depletion, and I have to allot a full day because I need to recover. I didn't have time to commit to recovery and I wasn't eating well in December, so I missed that 2 month point as usual. I was going to go in January, but hadn't scheduled the visit. Then I got to visiting Dawn's blog and she has a pal doing a virtual blood drive. Talk about some extra motivation! As it turns out, the next day the blood bank called to schedule a donation. I made the appointment for Friday and off I went. So, I had Devildog go along to take pictures, advising him only get me in the picture and no one else (that whole HIPPA & privacy thing, plus other permission/copyright stuff). So, what does he do?
He takes a picture of me with the blood pressure cuff on my arm, before any vampire work is done, and then he gets a picture of the nurse/phlebotemist with the needly contraption.
So, I took a picture of myself in the truck holding the little paper they give you to go online later and check your cholesterol etc. I probably should have waited till I got home, but by that time I was feeling the effects of having my blood removed from me, whatever amount it was, weighing 620 of some sort of measurement. If you look, you can see the goofy bandaid on my middle finger from the spot where they test your blood. That test alone makes me thankful I'm not diabetic. That junk HURTS. And the needle pinch...my inner elbow is still tender. But I would do it all over again. Perhaps taking the children with me to donate will spark an interest in them when they're eligible to donate. And maybe they'll be drained just enough to be quiet for a while and leave me in some peace and quiet. My kids are the same blood type as Devildog, which is that of universal recipient. Once again, my life demonstrates the humor of this situation. Me the universal donor, and the rest of my yayhoos being the universal recipients.
Go donate blood if you can. Since there's only so much meat on my bones, I can only give so much personally. Except my family still has me on their Universal Donor list for everything else of mine.