B+

I am now a "blood buddy". Sounds morbid, right? It's not. It is simply Ann's way of stating the new bond we share since she held my hand this morning and distracted me with tales of skiing while I gave blood for the first time. (I still feel the term is not quite true until I've helped her through her first time). I saved (potentially) three lives through my seven minute act, at least that's what they told me. When I think of how many seven minute blocks I waste, I'm really glad I donated.

I first went into the Cattle Conference Room, thinking I might be anemic because I don't get much iron on a daily basis, which would relieve me from the guilt of not giving. I would have tried, and failed not because of my fear but because of my inadequate blood. Great. However, my blood sunk in the iron test solution faster than I would have imagined, indicating that I'm anything but deficient in iron. I was already in the back of the room, behind the partition and there was no option (well, mostly no option) of retreat. So I let them lead me to a blue plastic recliner with the single armrest and prepare my arm for the ordeal, while I glared at where Ann was sitting, hoping she'd get the message, stop doing homework and come comfort me. Which she did.

I spent seven minutes with the needle in my arm. For my efforts I got snacks and a tee-shirt. For Ann's seven minute monolgue she also got a shirt. And now we are "blood buddies".

Olivia Unruh