My Precious Platelets

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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.

4 Responses to “My Precious Platelets”

  1. Blogger QOS 

    have given blood once. got sick. not nice.

  2. Blogger TSG 

    So, are cookies and cheez-its part of your diet?

  3. Blogger steelcowboy 

    Oh goodie. I am going to give on March 9th for the first time. NOW I have something to look forward to... :)

  4. Anonymous Anonymous 

    Don't worry, my aunt said they learn how to stick a needle by trying it on fruit. I'm sure it's just like an arm.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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