Dude. The people at the blood bank are ruthless. They will stop at nothing to get my blood. As apparently it is very special blood. Blood that will most likely save entire tribes of men and women with every drop.
That is how much they want my blood.
That’s got to be it. Why else would the Blood People call me as often as they do asking for my blood? They must call me twice a week saying they “need” my blood. I’m like, yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I “need” it too. So get off my back. Or my veins, as it were.
It turns out I have a rare kind of blood. If people with my kind of blood are given another kind of blood they will explode and die. Or something. However, people without my kind of blood can be given my kind of blood and it won’t harm them. Therefore my kind of blood is in high demand, because it can be used for everyone, without risk of explosion.
So the Blood People have been calling me off and on for awhile, asking for my blood. And it’s not that I have anything against giving my blood, I’m just a little scared. Not of needles or anything like that. It’s just that the last time I gave blood I got severely anemic a day or two later. I was all jacked up. I have no idea if it had anything to do with the giving of blood, but I associated it with the blood-giving and therefore I now associate giving blood with being all jacked up. Which is too bad, because I used to associate it with getting a free doughnut. And I enjoy doughnuts. So I gave a lot of blood.
But the Blood People don’t understand that I don’t enjoy being anemic, they only understand that they need my blood. And they will not rest until they get it. The messages on my phone have escalated from, “Dawn this is Bloodsource, and we were wondering if we could schedule you for a donation.” (nice, not pushy) to “Dawn this is Bloodsource, we really need your blood type this next week and were wondering if we could schedule you for a donation.” (sensing a little bit of guilt being thrown my way) to “Dawn this is Bloodsource, your blood type is needed for pediatric medicine and we are in great need of a donation.” (What the?!) Why do you have to bring the KIDS into it? So what if I’m afraid of being ill for a few days. The kids NEED my blood. Or they are going to die. Geez.
THEN, oh, it gets better, THEN I get a postcard in the mail. I kid you friggin’ not there is a picture of an adorable, but a little peaked, kid right there on the front of the postcard. And it’s asking me for my kind donation to help pediatric medicine. Those bastards. How dare they try to guilt me back with the picture of a sick kid. Have they no shame?
And have they no pictures of a doughnut? That might be enough to lure me back…
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
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9 comments:
How about if the postcard was a pic of a sick kid eating a doughnut? Ultimate dilemma....
Oh man, I'd be there when they opened in the morning with the IV already in my arm.
Dawn - you crack me up. i hope i meet you someday. i don't know you but your life is all i live for. and doughnuts.
my motivation for donating blood is two-fold. the cookies (no dunuts here) and the little sticker that says be nice to me, i gave blood today .
it kinda gets on my nerves that the sticker only lasts a few days, though. i transfer it from one outfit to the next but so far, i can't get it to stand up to the laundering process.
cheap-ass stickers, anyway.
Donuts! *drool*
I got an "A+" on my last blood donation...at least that's what my donor card says.
You can get a roll of them stickers at the dollar store.
bob, my new fan, is quite helpful.
Hey - I'm just trying to save your blood if all you want is the sticker!
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