I gave blood on the weekend -- the heat, a randy girlfriend and late night silliness at a friend's place meant I spent the entire weekend woozier than usual. The result? A hangover, a fuzzy tongue and Sunday morning number crunching.
In the 6076 days since I turned 17, I've had the statistical opportunity to donate blood 107.96 times. You're allowed to donate every 56 days from your 17th to 71st birthdays -- my next opportunity, for example, will be August 14th, 2004.
Saturday was exactly my ninth trip to Canadian Blood Services, meaning I've shirked my civic duty no less than 98 times over the past 16 and a half years. This is not including all the days I continued a previous shirk -- case in point, I didn't inaugurate my arms to the donation process until I was well into my 20s.
The last few times I've been, I've dedicated to my grandmother, who passed away a few years back. She was a major influence in my formative years; her British accent and love of Scrabble both inspired my membership in the word nerd club. I wouldn't have been a writer or teacher without her. Thanks, Grandma!
This time, as well, I aligned my donation with the Vancouver TheatreSports League 'donor team'. (I used to do improv, so I figured what the hell, bump up their tally by one, y'know?)
So the challenge, I guess, is for me to push others into giving blood. Maybe, karmically, that will offset the shirk factor?
2 comments:
Ok. Ok. I will call and make an appointment to give blood...if you promise to blog more. My roomie Erin and I enjoy reading!
(and it is about time I give blood again anyhow!)
Erin here...popping on to say that I feel guilty because I am a notoriously bad blood-giver. I've tried twice. Once in high school that was so horrendously awful that it scarred me for life. I tried again at my workplace a couple of years ago and they turned me away because my pulse was too high. Apparently, I couldn't relax...
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