My Motorcycle Injuries

Today is the 12th anniversary of my motorcycle accident. Ayup, right about now they were trying to figure out what to do with me in order to preserve my mortal existence. I have written before on this blog about my desire to donate blood because of the amount of blood that was required to keep me alive in the hospital so many years ago. Between a low iron count, thin veins, and slow flowing blood, I have only been able to donate blood one time over the years since the accident. I have tried countless times, but it has almost always ended in disappointment. Not today. For some reason it was set in my heart that I would try to donate blood today on the anniversary of the accident. I ate food rich in iron this morning and I went to the blood bank after running a couple of errands early in the morning. My iron was really low on the first test, but they warmed up my thumb and I registered two points above the required number on the second test. When they set me up to actually donate it was ...

I keep seeing commercials on television that call for people to donate blood during this time of crisis with the coronavirus. I’ve tried to donate blood twice since the accident. They got the needle in me the first time, but a relatively minuscule amount of blood poured into the bag before it stopped flowing and they called it quits. They didn’t even bother putting the needle into my arm the second time about a year later. I was told that my veins wouldn’t support the thicker needle used to draw blood. I’ve wanted to donate blood for the past six years in order to honor the fact that I was given an enormous amount of blood in the hospital during the first week after the accident. If it were possible, I would donate blood several times a year. This past week I actually considered going to the local blood bank in order to give it another try, but my rational mind tells me that I’ll be wasting time…again. They have a hard time just getting a few vials of blood out of me when I need to get...