Why I don't donate blood
2001-10-29 8:24 a.m.

I just heard that the Red Cross had to destroy a lot of the blood that was donated on September 11th. It appears they have too much. In the frenzy to "do something" people donated blood and there were far more fatalities than injuries.

It seems a shame to waste it but what else is blood good for? Vampires prefer it fresh, Hollywood only uses fake blood. Maybe some satanic cult could use it for their rituals.

I work for a huge company that tries to strong arm people into blood drives. They are proud of their Red Cross award plaques and are in competition with other local businesses.

One of our nurses (we employ nurses to review files) came to my cubicle with her clipboard and a stern expression and basically guilted me into donating.

I prepped for it. I drank lots and lots of fluids and ate heartily two days before to make sure I wouldn't have any ill side effects. So during my lunch break I went to the alotted room and laid down on one of those nice reclining lawn chairs and offered up my arm.

The girl couldn't find my vein and was hurting me and finally had to have someone else find it for her. That done, my blood was flowing freely and I felt good because it didn't hurt and I was helping the community and wasn't I a good citizen. When she pulled out the needle and let me pick out my stylish bandage (bright purple) I knew I had done it! I did it! I did it! I donated blood!

Then she tilted my chair up.

I turned pasty white and my eyes started rolling up into my head. The technicians all gathered around me shouting things like "put her back down! Raise her legs!" So I was placed in a horizontal position with my legs straight up in the air. Every half an hour or so they'd try to slowly raise me up and I'd turn pasty white and lose consciousness. They chastized me asked questions like "didn't you eat anything today?" "Are you hydrated?" Yes yes, I ate and drank like I was preparing for a marathon.

Three hours later I am still lying there. They are packing up everything and taking the equipment away. They half carry me to the "recovery room" where I am forced to eat four oatmeal raisin cookies (I hate oatmeal raisin cookies) and five giant glasses of tang. I still look like crap. The Red Cross people have finally had enough of me and coerce two of my coworkers to assist me back to my desk so they can go home. They also give me the bag of left over cookies (oh goody). I suppose they didn't want me to ride the elevator by myself because I'd pass out and end up riding the elevator the rest of the afternoon. Imagine the elevator opening up and finding someone unconscious in the corner. What would you do? Ride it quietly? Wait for the next elevator? Do CPR on the passed out person?

I recovered eventually but had to bum a ride home from a friend who drove. Passing out on the bus seemed like a bad idea.

Now the Red Cross calls me at work every couple of months and tries to guilt trip me into donating. It appears I'm A- and that's fairly rare and in high demand. So instead of trying to explain that I'm chicken or a fainter I say "Wow, I'd love to but I just got a new tattoo last week..."

To see pictures from Saturday's Halloween party click here.

0 People have tried to sell me Viagra

Previous | Next