The whole armful
Aug. 16th, 2006 04:14 pmOr not, as it happens
Three times now, since I've been living here, I've been invited to give blood. This time I managed to get along. I read the warnings about who shouldn't give blood, and I filled in the form, and I reported at the appointed time, and I read the book they gave me warning me again about when I shouldn't give blood, and I was all clear. So I waited for an hour before being called, and then answered the questions all over again.
Only then did they tell me that I wasn't allowed to give blood because - as I'd dutifully recorded on the form - I had a transfusion of two units in 1999 when I had a haemorrhage following surgery.
Pah! That's an hour of my life lost. And yes, I know it's they that need my blood not me, and I know I'm hypersensitive about possible feelings of rejection, but the little niggling voices inside me were sniggering and saying 'not good enough!' over an over again. I'd been feeling very positive too. Grrrr!
Three times now, since I've been living here, I've been invited to give blood. This time I managed to get along. I read the warnings about who shouldn't give blood, and I filled in the form, and I reported at the appointed time, and I read the book they gave me warning me again about when I shouldn't give blood, and I was all clear. So I waited for an hour before being called, and then answered the questions all over again.
Only then did they tell me that I wasn't allowed to give blood because - as I'd dutifully recorded on the form - I had a transfusion of two units in 1999 when I had a haemorrhage following surgery.
Pah! That's an hour of my life lost. And yes, I know it's they that need my blood not me, and I know I'm hypersensitive about possible feelings of rejection, but the little niggling voices inside me were sniggering and saying 'not good enough!' over an over again. I'd been feeling very positive too. Grrrr!