They say a pound a week is a pretty good rate of weight loss, but today I lost a pound in six minutes.
Unfortunately, I've gained it all back by now, since the people who took my blood encouraged me to drink a lot tonight.
Did I say six minutes? That's all it took from needle-in to needle-out. However, from home to home was over two hours. At the first bloodmobile I tried, the computer went down. After waiting 45 minutes or so, with no progress in sight, I took my paperwork and drove to another site.
It seems there's always something they don't like about my paperwork, and this time it was my travel—never mind that at my last donation, just two months ago, this had posed no difficulty at all. (At that time, it was something entirely different.) "Exactly when, and for how many days, were you in Switzerland, Italy, Germany, and France in the past three years?" If this had been one grand European vacation, I might have had the dates readily to hand. But it was a struggle to remember, since—I'm amazed to say—I've made the trip a lot. Fortunately, the lady with veto power over my ability to donate blood lightened up once she concluded that none of those countries is, or ever has been, in the United Kingdom....
Having read The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, I was acutely aware that the consent form I signed gives the blood bank pretty much unlimited rights to use my blood as they see fit, which is somewhat unsettling, I will admit.
I hadn't intended the adventure to take up most of the afternoon, but the time actually passed rather quickly, as I had brought with me Made to Stick, by the authors of Switch. Guilt-free reading time, a bottle of water, a movie ticket, and two chocolate chip cookies—and all it cost was two hours and a pint of blood. Plus I may save someone's life, which isn't a bad deal, either.
