ladysprite (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladysprite) wrote2004-04-13 07:54 pm
ladysprite) wrote2004-04-13 07:54 pm
Whug.
Today, I get to make up for yesterday's industriousness (is that even a word?) by being absolutely nothing but a blood factory.
I go through this every few months. The Red Cross calls, and asks me to donate blood. I think about it, remember the last time I did it, decide it wasn't that bad, really, and agree to do it again. Then the day of the appointment shows up, and I go and I bleed, and then I fall down.
It wouldn't be so bad if I were only borderline on the weight requirement, or the blood pressure requirement, or the red blood cell count requirement. But the combination of all three tends to leave me in a state where I'm dizzy, slow, vaguely nauseated, and not capable of doing much besides curling up on the sofa, watching mindless TV, and having my fiancee hand-feed me red meat and orange juice.
Tomorrow I'll be tired and wobbly, but I should be okay to work. And this summer, I'll probably do it all again. I keep telling myself that it's not worth it, and that it's not wise, but.... I *can* do it, even if it's maybe not the smartest decision. It makes me feel drained physically, but it does carry the good-samaritan ego boost, too. Right now, though, as the letters dance on the screen, I almost sort of wish I could have said no this time....
I go through this every few months. The Red Cross calls, and asks me to donate blood. I think about it, remember the last time I did it, decide it wasn't that bad, really, and agree to do it again. Then the day of the appointment shows up, and I go and I bleed, and then I fall down.
It wouldn't be so bad if I were only borderline on the weight requirement, or the blood pressure requirement, or the red blood cell count requirement. But the combination of all three tends to leave me in a state where I'm dizzy, slow, vaguely nauseated, and not capable of doing much besides curling up on the sofa, watching mindless TV, and having my fiancee hand-feed me red meat and orange juice.
Tomorrow I'll be tired and wobbly, but I should be okay to work. And this summer, I'll probably do it all again. I keep telling myself that it's not worth it, and that it's not wise, but.... I *can* do it, even if it's maybe not the smartest decision. It makes me feel drained physically, but it does carry the good-samaritan ego boost, too. Right now, though, as the letters dance on the screen, I almost sort of wish I could have said no this time....
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For some people I know, this *is* the appeal (especially if there are cute guys serving the orange juice at the clinic)
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I want to say something else, but every time i try and put it into words, it comes across sounding like a red cross advertisement. So suffice to say it does really help people.
my two cents. (I tend to go every nine weeks...I forget the actual eight week date, and remember about a week late. Or they call me. But it averages 9 weeks now.)
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... er... so to speak. :)
Anyway, good for you.
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And, for you and my fellow LJ readers who filk, there's Bleed Up a River (http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Vault/8789/bleed.htm).
My only peeve about donating blood is the occasional nurse (maybe once every few years) who doesn't get the needle in the right place at first. Look, folks, my veins are like 8-lane highways to needles. It can't be that hard!
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