Not me, the blood bank.
I am famous around these parts for making appointments and forgetting them. Even if I write it down in my agenda, even if I get a reminder call the day before, even if I get a reminder post card or business card. My dentist’s office knows to call me the morning of to make sure I don’t forget, and now the blood bank does, too. For the last three weeks they’ve been calling to remind me I’m eligible to donate again, and if I make an appointment the wait time won’t be as long. I made three appointments. The last time they called my son answered and he told me it was them. I answered with “I am such a loser!!! I am so sorry I forgot!! Can I come this Monday and can you pretty please call me that morning to remind me???”
After some laughter and reassurances that it was fine I had missed the other appointments, I was set for 4:00 p.m. today. Except…
I neglected to do some heavy drinking over the weekend. I started this morning, but it wasn’t good enough. They stuck me in my left arm. It hurt like a sumthin’ sumthin’. There was wincing and gnashing of teeth. Perhaps a few whimpers. After much starting and stopping, they got a whopping 4 ml out of me. 4 ML!!!! That’s less than a teaspoon!!! I offered my right arm in the hopes it would help, but no. It was much worse. The vein kept rolling, and when they finally did get it I didn’t even manage 1 ml. It was so sad…
I double-fisted at the blood bank and all I got to show for it was my 24 points and some neon green bandages.
(insert game show type “Wah-wah-wahhhhhh!” here)
They said I could come back next week. I promised I would.
If they call.