Today was to be my 100th donation. I was stoked. I leaped into my trusty green Subaru and drove south, arriving at the Red Cross Blood Services a mere 10 minutes late for my 10:15 appointment. I was greeted at the front desk by KC, who volunteers there, with a card and congratulations. I read the educational materials. I went back with my blood sucker, had my mini physical and took my computer test. I passed everything. I walked in glory to my assigned recliner, spooled up my movie, "Hellboy II, The Golden Army" (I only watch the classics.) My pair of blood suckers awarded me with a "Centennial Certificate" and a fuzzy red blankie, then stuck needles into the crooks of both my arms and turned on the machine. Hosannas were heard from on high.
Then came the "Well, Pooh!" moment.
It was a bad stick in my persnickety left arm.
So the floor supervisor stuck me again.
What an anticlimax. All that hoohah and no donation.
I tried to give the certificate and blankie back, but they wouldn't take them. Said it was the effort that counted.
Next Monday, when I go back, it's a single needle donation for me. Takes longer, but that evil left arm won't be able to screw me up.
To make myself feel better, I went to Three Wishes and bought some yarn to knit a case for my new laptop. Mmmm... yarn.