I am a Lifetime Member of the Bloodbank.

Doesn't that sound important? Sounds very offical. Very I-Will-Be-Given-A-Cookie-Before-You. All it means is that if I am ever near death, or if Fredd ever takes up knife throwing again, and I go the hospital and bleed like a stuck pig, they won't charge me for blood. Nifty, eh?

It also means that they have my cell phone number and call me incessently begging me to donate my precious plasma, platelets and diseases to the people of the East Coast. I would like to say I have a rather rare blood type, but I don't. I just happen to have the universal blood type. (In case anyone out there wanted to murder me, you know what to tell them when you dump me at the hospital steps.)

So, I finally went in to give blood, since they have been calling me for about a month. The residing nurse happened to be someone I went to school with a few months ago. A FEW MONTHS AGO AND SHE IS STICKING A FRICKING NEEDLE IN MY ARM.

I gently told her that the last nurse who had stuck me, had to do it twice, something I was less than pleased about, so, as she stuck me, she commented "Oh, your vein moved!" My vein did not move, your HAND moved.

After I endured fifteen minutes of EXCRUCIATING pain, bled all over my bandage and had the little old ladies stuff me full of Cheeze-It's and other thing, I went home, only to discover I had a huge bruise that was growing. From the stupid nurse who couldn't stick me properly.

So, next time you happen to be dying at the hospital, and are given a blood transfusion, please remember all the pain and agony I went through to help insure that you lived.


A long and frickin' healthy life.