Thursday, July 14, 2011

Bleed me, Seymour


I celebrated my 66th birthday today by donating a pint of blood (mine) at the Jonesboro Sun/Red Cross blood drive.

It’s been years since I gave blood and it seems like the screening process is more exhaustive than it used to be.

I’m surprised and puzzled that so many grownups are so terrified of needles and the sight of their own blood that they can’t bear to participate in a community effort like this.

The kid in the next chair to mine, who I guess to be in his mid-20s, complained he was getting dizzy and about to pass out. I managed not to laugh. But just barely.

My mother and my first wife were nurses and my daughter-in-law is a doctor, so I’m no stranger to the medical field. And the sight of my blood doesn’t bother me a bit. Unless it’s spurting from a severed artery. Then I might get concerned.

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