Ouch

At 2:58 on February 1, I was awaken from a sound sleep by a phone call from the Red Cross.  I am a big fan of giving blood.  Other than the timing of the call, I was glad that my sixteen weeks had passed and that it was time once again to have my blood sucked out of me.  Due to the physical nature of my job, I always schedule my donations for the weekend.  So while half asleep, I set up an appointment for the following Saturday morning.  A day or two later, I was reading the church bulletin and found out that there would be a blood drive at the church building on February 13.  This date would be more convenient for me, so I berated myself for not reading the bulletin when I got it back on January 30.  I considered calling the Red Cross back and canceling my appointment but never got around to it.  There was some snow on Friday the 4th which canceled my other Saturday morning plans.  So I used that as an excuse not to donate that day.

This morning I went to church and then walk over to The Dixie Cafe afterward.  I put enough food in my belly that there was no chance of passing out from blood lose and walked back over to church.  After answering several questions about my sexual and medical history, I was hooked up to ALYX.  You should take a break from reading this post and read that last link about double red cell donations, otherwise the next sentence will not make sense to you.

After she had donated, Lacey kept me company while my blood was being drawn out and pumped back into me.  The process seemed to take a little longer than usual, maybe because all my blood wanted to stay and help digest that chicken fried steak instead of going into a bag where there was no chicken fried steaks.  After I was unhooked from the machine, I went home with a new t shirt and nary a side effect from the blood lose.  That is until nine hours later when the band aid came off along with some skin.