The Universal Almost-Donor
I remember pricking myself for the first time in my high school biology class and pressing my finger to a blood test card.
“Wow! O-negative,” my teacher complimented. “You’re a universal donor.”
After that, I got all sorts of compliments every time my blood was involved.
“You have great blood”
“Wow! O-negative. That’s a rare one.”
“Yeah, you’ll want to use your right arm. Wow. Nice blood type.”
You could say I started getting pretty vein–I mean vain.
Wouldn’t you know though, I hated needles with a passion. It took me eighteen years–until the blood truck pulled up to PCC my freshman year–to bestow my blood upon mankind.
Turned out, mankind would have to settle for someone else’s fabulous O-negative blood. See, I was born overseas, which actually made me ineligible to donate! I struggled with. . . well—I guess all the normal emotions someone struggles with when their blood is rejected.
But I’ve watched many of my friends give blood over the years, and seen what a rewarding experience it was for them.
The blood drive this past week dotted our student body with complimentary bright orange t-shirts and bowls of frozen yogurt from a nearby yogurt place. This year, we actually broke our all-time record, totaling 1,033 students who showed up to donate during the blood drive.
So at next semester's blood drive. . .give some blood for me! And think of me while you eat your yogurt and have the satisfaction of knowing you've done your part!
(On a side note, don't feel too bad for me. I can get some frozen yogurt somewhere else, hopefully.)0