He Thinks My Veins Are Sexy

Three times a year the people who are in charge of "things" at my place of employment invite the local branch vampires in to have at us poor, overworked schleps. By vampires I mean the Red Cross. There's a blood drive down the hall from my office in April, July, and October. Friday was the April blood drive.

Now, this is bandwagon was only jumped upon recently since it contains two things I tend to avoid at all costs: needles and blood. There's also the point that I'm kind of still using this blood, thank you very much. And did I mention the needles part?

I still don't remember what prompted me to donate the first time. Maybe I was trying to prove something to myself. Maybe I was in it for the certificate they handed out for a half gallon of Friendly's ice cream to every successful donation. (That does sound a lot like something I would do.)

Have you ever given blood? Let me walk you through the process. First they quiz you to make sure you know who you are. Name, date of birth, address and what not. Then they prick your finger to make sure you aren't anemic. (I think I dread this more than the blood sacrifice part.) The also take your blood pressure and pulse. Lastly, they do the interview to see if you're a candidate. They are most especially concerned if you've been out of the country, are on drugs for certain medical conditions (or on drugs period), and if you're a hooker. (I kid you not, one of the questions is if you've had sex for money.) Once they have put you through your paces and determined that your blood is worthy, they take you over to the folding cots and get you set up.

Now, being the nice vampires that they are, they ask if you have an arm that's better for this process. I immediately wave my left arm and say, "This is the good bleeding arm." (They appreciate good bleeders.) They whip out the tourniquet and wrap it around your arm while giving you a stress ball to squeeze. (I guess this attracts your veins.) The blood drive guy immediately says, "There is it. That's a beautiful vein." Ok, I know it's probably foolish, but how thrilled am I to have a beautiful anything? Yeah, so it's a vein. It's nice to know that someone appreciates it, right? My husband gives me pretty compliments all the time, but he's never once told me how beautiful my veins are!

At the end they send you off with a drink, a snack, and an order not to do anything strenuous for the rest of the day. This includes housework and laundry, right?