Why I don’t Give Blood… – May 6, 2013

Many years ago, when I was a wee college lass, I had a crush on a guy in the Christian ministry I was involved with. Every year during the week between Christmas and New Year’s the ministry would gather with students from all over California and Arizona (and occasionally Hawaii). The first year I went, this guy, we’ll call him John, gave blood. I was impressed by this selfless act and took note. The next year, I still liked him, and thought I should give blood. Because once he saw how selfless I was, he’d make the connection that we should date. That’s how things work, right? But here’s the thing. I hated needles. Now, I’d had shots, done blood tests, etc., but it was never a fun experience for me. However, I found myself tired a lot, so assumed I was anemic. They test you for that before you give blood, so I thought I’d get in line, but be dismissed. I get all the credit for being “selfless”, but don’t have to deal with the needle. It’s a win-win.

I gather my friends and we line up to give blood. All the while, I’m looking around for John. He of course, is nowhere to be found. One by one, we get tested, and my friends are being wiped out like a plague – they all are anemic. I’m finally tested. And guess what? I’m approved to donate blood. Curses, my plan has failed! I have to give blood and John can’t witness my “selflessness”.

Later that night, all the members from my campus go out to dinner. John is there. We were at some weird place where every 15 minutes the servers would do a dance routine to a song. When “Wild, Wild West” came on (see, I told you this happened a long time ago), my friend and I decided to join in with the servers. As I am mid-lasso, I begin to remember the thing they told me earlier that day about not doing a lot of physical activity. Then the darkness starts to close in. I hurry to get back to my seat to prevent my fainting. All the while, I look ridiculous, staggering to my seat. I try to explain why I’m woozy, but between the music playing so loudly and my being woozy, I don’t think anyone comprehends what’s going on. Except that I am strange. And that is what John witnesses. Not my “selfless” giving of life to another, but my staggering around and talking incoherently.

So, that’s why I haven’t given blood since then. Actually, it’s not a complete no, but I will never again give blood to try to impress a boy.