Vampire Tuesday
Bill and I went to give blood this morning. From the time they started prepping me to the time I was up off the table was 8 minutes. Yeah, eight.
Bill, on the other hand, had a much different experience. I waited for him for 40 minutes, through having quite a number of staff gathered around him looking worried (multiple times), him looking a little less than perky, and, well, 40 minutes.
After he (finally) joined me at the juice and cookie station I grabbed one of the stickers off the table and stuck it to his chest. His sticker proudly proclaimed, "I tried to give blood." I chuckled at myself for my joke. After sitting for the minimal required 10 minutes we were up and off to the office.
On the way back to work Bill confessed—he was 8 oz short of the minimum donation requirement, so they couldn't use his blood. Bummer. Worse still, he now has a nasty bruise on his arm. The poor dear.
Bill, on the other hand, had a much different experience. I waited for him for 40 minutes, through having quite a number of staff gathered around him looking worried (multiple times), him looking a little less than perky, and, well, 40 minutes.
After he (finally) joined me at the juice and cookie station I grabbed one of the stickers off the table and stuck it to his chest. His sticker proudly proclaimed, "I tried to give blood." I chuckled at myself for my joke. After sitting for the minimal required 10 minutes we were up and off to the office.
On the way back to work Bill confessed—he was 8 oz short of the minimum donation requirement, so they couldn't use his blood. Bummer. Worse still, he now has a nasty bruise on his arm. The poor dear.
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