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I Make a Spectacle of Myself

I promised a post explaining yesterday’s brainless state (I truly felt I had none), so here it is.

My place of employment had a blood drive. I had neglected to sign up before Thursday afternoon so did not have an assigned time. Accordingly, I made my way to where the drive was being held at 9 a.m., their purported start time, in hopes they could take me as a walk in. They could.

Now I know from giving blood. I used to work blood drives with my service sorority in college, and I gave numerous times while in the military. I did not drink wine the night before, and I made sure I ate a healthy breakfast (banana with peanut butter and cottage cheese with walnuts). I had eaten breakfast prior to 6 a.m, but I ate a fiber bar while waiting my turn in line, so I really thought I would be fine. Full disclosure: I had a headache, as I have been having a lot lately (concerned readers will perhaps like to know that I have made a doctor’s appointment to address this problem). However, I knew the headache was not due to a cold, the flu or anything else contagious. So I thought it would be OK to give blood.

Actually, I thought I might ask one of the nurses about the headache and if it would be a good idea to give blood. I figured when they were asking me all the questions: do you feel good, did you have sex with a prostitute, etc. But they didn’t ask me the questions: they sat me at a computer by myself and I had to click on yes or no with the mouse. I suppose this ensures privacy for the sex questions. I confess I did click “yes” for “do you feel well and healthy today,” but they did not offer “as well as I have been feeling lately” as a choice. Don’t judge me.

I don’t like to pick, but the folks doing the blood drive were a trifle unorganized. It took a while to get me on the table bleeding into a bag, but I finally made it. The gurneys were kind of old and flat. The folks giving double got to be on the nice reclining tables, which I used to enjoy at a blood giving place in Georgia some years ago. I’m still not clear on what “double” is. I asked but found out I do not qualify. Females must weigh at least 175 lbs. Let’s hear it for the South Beach Diet!

So there I was sitting at the table, drinking juice and eating crackers. Other people finished their drinks and snacks and got out of there, but the volunteer kept pressing more juice or water on me. She didn’t think I looked so good. When I put my head down on the table, she was sure of it. I observed that they did not have the cot behind the screen for passers out. Merely an observation, I didn’t feel about to pass out, I just felt like crap. The lady hollered at some people to set it up, that I needed to lie down.

Actually I had to pee, and the ladies room was not close. The volunteer lady nicely escorted me down in the elevator. By the time we got back up, the cot was set up and they made me lie down. I guess I had to. I stayed there for a long time, occasionally sipping from a bottle of water and feeling really stupid. I saw two co-workers from my area. I was pretty sure they saw me, so my absence from my machine would be explained.

After a long time I felt like sitting up. I ate some more cookies and crackers, drank some more water. I kept saying I had to go back to work, and the volunteer ladies kept telling me I needed to stay right there till I felt better. When I stood to throw away my garbage, I seemed a little steadier on my feet. I thought I would be OK to go back to work. After all, I sit at my machine and work at my own pace. And by now it only lacked a half hour till lunch.

I found my foreman and said, “Don’t be mad at me.” See, we had just had a safety briefing the day before in which he said he had to know if for example we were on medication which made us sleepy. I thought feeling woozy from giving blood qualified as something he ought to know. I told him I didn’t think I was a danger to myself.

“How about others?” he asked.

“Well, it depends,” I answered. “As long as they don’t piss me off.” So you see, I was feeling more myself.

I’m looking at my word count and see I’ve gone over 800 words. That seems a little long for me, so I’ll stop here. I did have further woozy adventures, though, so tomorrow’s post may be Spectacle II. Stay tuned.

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