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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....
