Each year, sometimes twice, I try to donate blood. I figure, I’m helping someone out who needs it and every time, they tell me the same thing, “you just made it.” Meaning, my blood iron levels just barely eked by.
You see, I’m anemic. I’m supposed to take very large quantities of iron. Quantities that would probably kill (or maim) small animals and young children. Today, I didn’t take my supplements and it’s come back to bite me in the ass.
The blood donation people were so happy to see me come in (I’m thinking it was a slow day). They prepped me, abused my finger, and then apologized. Their voodoo magic didn’t work this time and my iron wasn’t even high enough to pretend I could donate.
And I was so looking forward to the juice and cookies they give you afterwards. Ah well, can’t say I didn’t try.
Off to take my iron now…maybe they’ll be there tomorrow.