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I came into work late today not remembering I had a blood drive appointment at 1:30.  I saw the reminder note to myself at 1:20 and gunned it to the appropriate building in our complex.  I arrived sweating but on-time and was immediately hurried in to make it on time.  I sat down, had my blood pressure taken (120/80 in your face obesity!) but was rejected because of my pulse being too high (100 BPM), probably because I’d ran to the building.  I was then approached by the coordinator.

Coordinator: Sir, your pulse was too high to donate do you have any conditions that’d cause this?
Me: Not really, I did just run over.
Coordinator: Hm… Have you had a stressful day?  There seems to be a lot of stressed people in.
Me: Nope, I just got in, but I did just run over here.  If you give me a minute, I’ll be fine.
Coordinator: Do you have a history of a high pulse in your family?
Me: I don’t think so, although I imagine all our pulses go up after running.
Coordinator:  Hm… You’ll be ok.  I’m going to give you a note that you can’t donate for the day because of your pulse and you should really see a medical professional about that.  100 BPM is not healthy.

Well, I’m glad they’d already taken my pulse and BP as it doubled over the course of her ignoring the fact that I’d just ran to the building.  I’d be curious to see if deafness is correlatable to proximity to the end of the work day.

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I’d like to propose an event.  AnnaMarie Pepper, the Bucks County Council advancement and registration person and perennial ray of sunshine in the Ockanickon office has a relative very much in need of blood (I believe he’s AB+ and will take anything you throw at him) and there’ll be a blood drive at Richboro Elementary School on February 11th, from 3 PM to 8 PM. One can register at www.pleasegiveblood.org using the sponsor code of 5025.

I was hoping to have a gathering on the 12th to celebrate the 200th birthday of Charles Darwin and Abraham Lincoln and the 150th anniversary of the publishing of On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life. I invite anyone would like to join me in donating blood and replenishing vital nutrients like pork and barbeque sauce by having quality ribs at the Churchville Inn afterward.

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I enjoy giving blood.  I’m good at it (if that’s even possible.)  I can drop a pint in about 3 minutes, I have wonderful iron levels and I’m O-positive, not quite the holy grail of O-negative but close.  I don’t faint, I don’t complain and I don’t take the afternoon to recover.

My first indication that I wouldn’t be through as fast as I wished was when I was stopped for high blood pressure.  Apparently, 1250/80 is unusual.  I’m pretty sure that would also kill a person and were an artery cut under such pressure I’d be blow back like a rocket.

Supervisor: Sir, you’re blood pressure’s pretty high.
Me: What is it?
Supervisor: 1250/80.
Me: I’m pretty sure that’s a typo.  Sphygmomanometers don’t even go that high.
Supervisor: Well, I guess i could do it over again.*repeats BP reading*, there we go 130 over 80.

Despite being lower, I think it was higher because of my tard-induced rage.

Then came the actual extraction.  I thought it was the best draw I’d gotten as I barely felt a pin prick, until I looked down and saw the need hadn’t entered my arm yet and I was being scraped by the woman’s finger nail ring (yes, fingernail ring).  The puncture hurt more than usual and the stream was slower than normal.  This gave me extra time to see all the tiny women in the complex get kicked out like a fat kid in dodge ball.  If you weigh 110 lbs and are a vegetarian, you probably can’t give blood.  Don’t bother trying, you meet neither the weight requirement and have as much iron in you as a dying jellyfish.  If you want to, bulk up a bit and eat some Victorian fencing, handmade nails or lick anvils the morning of, something to give iron.  Don’t worry, their vegetarian and maybe you won’t waste these people’s time wishing.  It’s almost as tragic as the fat kid in gym class trying to do the rope climb.  It’s nice that he tries, but part of you knows the farcical attempt is pathetic.

Maybe i should build a Fisher Price “My First Donation” kit where anorexic waifs or oddly dieted kids can give fake blood to little fake leukemia patients.  It’ll come with a plastic fork so you can even get the experience of several failed stabs at your arm from an underpracticed operator.