I used to donate blood all the time in college. Every six weeks, or whatever the length of time they would make you wait between givings, if I remembered, I would donate. In fact, one time, I even donated Platelets, which, if you’ve never done so before, is a one hour procedure that, I can only assume, feels like doing heroin (there were a lot of commas in that sentence, sorry). After I graduated, for whatever reason, I stopped donating. I decided, in honor of Barack Obama, I would go and donate this afternoon.
After making an appointment last night for 1:30pm today, I headed out after eating lunch for the Red Cross building in Dunwoody. I arrived at about 1:20pm, only to find out that you don’t actually donate at the Red Cross, you donate at a special “blood bank” on the other side of Dunwoody. I took the blame for that one, figuring it would have made sense to actually read the directions on the website instead of assuming that I knew where I was going and headed off to the “blood bank”.
After arriving at the “blood bank”, I quickly filled out the paper work necesary to give blood and was whisked into the private room to get pricked and have my blood tested. Before that, though, I had to answer the 25 very important questions that they ask you every time you give blood (you know, “Have you been diagnosed with rabies in the past 12 months?” “Have you ever asked someone who gets paid for sex a question regarding politics?” “Have you ever played Chinese Checkers with a transvestite?”). After rapidly answering “no” to each question came apparently the hardest question of them all: “Have you left the United States in the past 12 months?”
Of course I have just come back from a Caribbean cruise, so I listed to the nurse all of the cities I’d gone on the trip. “I went to Cozumel, Belize City, Costa Maya…” “COSTA MAYA?!?!?!” the nurse interupted, “…did you say Costa Maya?”. Turns out, people who go to Costa Maya are at a serious risk of contracting Malaria. Due to me having set foot in the city (and I’d only been there like six hours, I tried to explain), I was told I not only couldn’t give blood today, but I wouldn’t be able to give blood for the next year.
Side note – Screw Norwegian Cruise Lines for not telling me I might get Malaria in Costa Maya!
Now I’m no doctor (hell, I’m not even a psycologist) but I know a few things about Malaria. I even had a close encounter with Malaria one time; my friend Jean had “Malaria” last July 4th and couldn’t come to the party I threw (no, I don’t believe her diagnosis either).
First of all, Malaria kills something like 3 million people in Africa every year.
Clue #1 to me not having Malaria – I’m not dead
Second of all, according to wikipedia, Malaria symptoms arise, at the latest, 14 days after infection. It has been over 14 days since I was in Costa Maya, therefore, we can assume I wasn’t infected.
Clue #2 to me not having Malaria – I do not have Malaria
So basically, I am venting for having wasted a couple hours today on my quest to do something good with myself and getting shut down. Sucks for me
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