Well, it's still April 1st
on my neck of the woods, but this is what came up, so I think I'll just move forward to tomorrow. Time waits for no one!
It all started a few months ago. I wrote a daylog
about my first blood donation
. This spawned from my decision to start helping more, in a general sort of way. I'm pretty healthy, so it's the least I could do. It wasn't nearly as bad as I though, so that was good.
My second blood donation was not as smooth as my first. I had taken prescribed medication
within the previous 4 weeks and couldn't remember the name of it, so I was refused as a donor. I went back after the 4 week period and everything was cool... except for the girl who didn't know her phlebotomy
very well. But after quite a while, and little added discomfort, I was on my way.
They always run through a few things briefly when you donate about if you get sick within the next few days and what-not, but I usually pay about as much attention
to them as I do flight attendant
s at the beginning of a commercial flight
. "What's that... seat belt
, oxygen mask
, emergency exit
." After about 2 days, I started to get a soar throat
and swollen glands. I tried to remember what they told me about getting sick, but since I wasn't really listening
to them in the first place, that memory had slipped away. So I called the donation center and told them the situation, and they told me to call someone 800
number. I finally got ahold of someone
, and they ended up asking me a bunch of questions
about who I was and what was wrong, so I explained and they said they'd take care of it.
about 2 weeks later
I came quietly home this evening
, so as not to wake my roommates daughter, Jade, sleeping in the living room, and made my way into the kitchen to listened to the messages on the answering machine. I skipped past the leftover messages that I lazily have yet to delete, on to message number three
, the new one.
This message is for Nicholas.
Could you please call Mercy Medical Center.
We have some questions to ask you about you and your donating.
Our number is ###-####.
Now, I know reading this just makes you think that they want to question me about my sickness that I reported, like a responsible blood donor. But when the blood donation center needs to talk to you, it can't be good... plain and simple
. The first thing that popped into my mind was all the possible ways that I could have contracted AIDS
, thought there aren't many, of which I am proud to report... but there are a couple. Then I started to wonder if my THC
levels could have cought their attention while more closely examining my blood. Whatever it is, it can be a little frightening to get that kind of call. I calmed down a little bit, but I have to wait until tomorrow
to contact them. I hate waiting
for shit like this.
Update: They wanted to know if the problems I was having were cleared up or if they are chronic. WHEW!