On Wednesday September 29th, I wore this paisley tie. Surprisingly, it actually matched my shirt for the day. But no one cared, not even me. Tie number 130 was unexceptional, much like the wearer of the tie. Which reminds me…Last week I received a call from the Red Cross. I was very excited because the last time I donated blood I was entered into a drawing for a pair of Redskins tickets. I should have known better. That was not why they called.
I was disappointed, but Joel was a nice guy, so I talked to him. Someone must have told Joel, or the Red Cross, about my personal weakness. It is my need to be the best at something in this world.
My perfectly mediocre existence has taught me that there is always someone better, stronger, faster, smarter than me, and most of the time that person is in the room. I think all people want to stand out because of something, and I am no different. I am sure that no awards are given for being the most awesomely average person in the world. If so, that would certainly be my award.
I am not interested in competing to prove anything to anyone, but when Joel said, “When we looked at your blood we saw that you have an outstanding Platelet count and you would be perfect as a donor for the sick children at the Children’s Hospital of the King’s Daughters.” I heard outstanding, perfect, and sick children.
How do you turn down sick children? I am outstanding? I am perfect for something? Yes, it takes that little to bend me to your will.
For days I was walking around thinking about my awesome blood. A needle in my arm, not a big deal, I have the good stuff that the world needs! Children who have lost the ability to have blood that clots? I can fix this…
I entertained myself by thinking that my blood would be special enough to start fights at an imaginary Vampire club like some newly discovered whisky lost a hundred years ago in the Antarctic. Yes, it went to my head.
When I walked into the blood donation center at 9 am on Sunday morning, there was Joel. He seemed so excited to see me. I felt like a celebrity. He quickly pulled out a bag full of swag; a reusable water jug, 2 oven mitts, a bag to carry stuff with shoulder straps and a baseball cap. Yes, the guy with the good stuff just showed up. My fans were making sure I was happy.
Shortly afterward I was led to a room with a bunch of people donating blood! Did they lie to me? Was my blood not special? I looked around and decided my blood must be better than this guy because he was older than me. And that lady there, she couldn’t have better blood than me, could she? But as I scanned the room I saw that no one else had a goody bag. I knew then that I had the best blood in the room. Maybe even the world! Two oven mitts- none of them had even one mitt.
My platelets are like a miniature wall building army that plugs all holes in their way. Like an elite Seabee unit. I do have special blood. And don’t even get me started about how exceptional my blood pressure is…
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