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Wish Me Luck!
Dec. 8th, 2008 01:34 pmI'm trying to donate blood tomorrow.
I keep trying, and, to be honest, I'm successful about half the time. I tend to run close to the borderline of acceptable red cell count, and so anytime I try to donate there's a significant chance that I'll take the time off, sit in line, fill out the forms, answer about a hundred questions as to whether I've ever had sex with anyone who's ever shook hands with anyone who's ever had a pet monkey or traveled anywhere interesting, get my finger stabbed repeatedly, and then told to get lost.
Of course, the times that I do manage to donate, I usually wind up nauseated, shaking, swoony, and incapacitated for the next 12-24 hours.
Sometimes I wonder why I do this. Being unable to donate - trying and getting turned away - breaks my heart. I wind up frustrated and miserable and generally in a bad headspace for at least a day after, even though I know intellectually that it's not a personal failure. But the times that I can... no matter how bad I feel physically, the joy at being able to do something useful and helpful is such a rush that it makes up for any unpleasant side effects.
It's such a little thing. But it's so important to me. I'm being as smart as I can this time; I've been remembering to take my multivitamin at least half the time. I may not have been eating as wisely as humanly possible for the past few days, but overall I've been taking decent care of myself. And I'm not taking the pathologically stupid path of not drinking anything for 24 hours beforehand to artificially elevate my red cell count; as well as that works, I know that it's the Wrong Thing To Do.
I'm doing my best to be good about this. And if I fail, I'm going to do my best to sigh, shrug my shoulders, and try again next month. But... any good thoughts and good luck that can be spared to help me be able to donate tomorrow would be greatly appreciated....
I keep trying, and, to be honest, I'm successful about half the time. I tend to run close to the borderline of acceptable red cell count, and so anytime I try to donate there's a significant chance that I'll take the time off, sit in line, fill out the forms, answer about a hundred questions as to whether I've ever had sex with anyone who's ever shook hands with anyone who's ever had a pet monkey or traveled anywhere interesting, get my finger stabbed repeatedly, and then told to get lost.
Of course, the times that I do manage to donate, I usually wind up nauseated, shaking, swoony, and incapacitated for the next 12-24 hours.
Sometimes I wonder why I do this. Being unable to donate - trying and getting turned away - breaks my heart. I wind up frustrated and miserable and generally in a bad headspace for at least a day after, even though I know intellectually that it's not a personal failure. But the times that I can... no matter how bad I feel physically, the joy at being able to do something useful and helpful is such a rush that it makes up for any unpleasant side effects.
It's such a little thing. But it's so important to me. I'm being as smart as I can this time; I've been remembering to take my multivitamin at least half the time. I may not have been eating as wisely as humanly possible for the past few days, but overall I've been taking decent care of myself. And I'm not taking the pathologically stupid path of not drinking anything for 24 hours beforehand to artificially elevate my red cell count; as well as that works, I know that it's the Wrong Thing To Do.
I'm doing my best to be good about this. And if I fail, I'm going to do my best to sigh, shrug my shoulders, and try again next month. But... any good thoughts and good luck that can be spared to help me be able to donate tomorrow would be greatly appreciated....
