I Gave Blood; My Legs Gave Out

Yesterday at work there was a blood drive. For some weird reason I was in a giving mood, and thought why not do it, I’ve never donated before, today seems like a good a day as any to save a life, right?

So I made sure that the 340 medications I am taking were not on the banned list (they weren’t – to my utmost surprise) and they didn’t seem to have any qualms about my low weight, so I let ‘em have at me.

As I was waiting, though, for my turn to be poked and sucked dry, my charitable mood began to wane. What was I doing? Was I insane? Is my health even stable enough to do this?? My co-workers were all incredulous I was donating – they notice when I miss work due to hospitalizations and other such nonsense, so I was getting freaked about my CHARITABLE decision and I called my mom and asked her just what the H bomb I was doing. WHAT? She shrieked! You can’t give blood, you NEED your blood. ALL of it. You’re not healthy enough to do it. But Mom, I protested weakly, I’ve already started the process. I’ve already told them I have slept with no Bolivian whores and that I do not take Propecia for baldness. They’ve given me the All Clear! I promise I’ll be okay! She was skeptical, but really what could she do? I’m, like, an adult. Usually.

It wasn’t so bad. After I made sure they couldn’t poke my left arm, because excuse me that’s my bowling arm and I have League tonight, it seemed to go pretty smoothly. In fact, they say the average person, to donate a pint of blood, takes between 6-9 minutes. I was a fast bleeder. I was done in 4 minutes, 45 seconds. I was praising myself on my amazing bleeding skills. This wasn’t so bad! Who cares if you just took 1/6 of my blood? I, apparently, don’t need it. I am the picture of health. I am not passing out. I am not feeling weird. I am feeling brave and strong and am really excited about the free juice box I’m going to procure.

So I was done. She wrapped my arm up in a purple bandage, which was totally lame, because I’d heard her ask every other co-worker what color they wanted, (red, yellow, blue, purple, green, or pink) and I was debating between yellow and pink. I mean, yellow would’ve gone better with my outfit, but let’s be honest, it kind of looked like used toilet paper. So I was getting all excited about my pink bandage, when she wrapped me up in an anticlimactic purple. That put a damper on things, but still, it didn’t matter, I JUST SAVED A LIFE, man. And I didn’t die in the process, like some (coughMom&coworkerscough) thought I would.

She says thank you for donating today, have a great day. I sit up. I feel a little funny. I’m seeing black and red things that I’m pretty sure shouldn’t be there. I’m okay though, I think, no biggie, and stand up. But then sit down.
Abruptly.
And I hear, faintly, what seemed like from far away, WE’VE GOT A FAINTER! ...And then I had an ice pack on my neck and chest and I was like I’m so sorry but AT LEAST I’M A FAST BLEEDER.

I ruined their record. They were going for a faint-free day, and I tarnished it. ButbutBUT. Let’s all say it together, now: AT LEAST I’M A FAST BLEEDER!

So, I gave. I gave a lot.
But my legs gave out. Selfish jerks.