I WROTE a feature last week on the importance of organ donation and have since signed up to be a donor myself.
It’s the least I can do considering my karma has been out of balance ever since I got politely barred from my local blood bank.
I’ve tried to make it up to Mother Nature - I’m kind to animals, I give to charity and I help pensioners across the road (although this, inexplicably, doesn’t always go down well) - but I feel the ‘blood’ thing won’t go away until I’ve addressed it directly.
So this week, lovely readers, I want your word that you’ll go and sign up in return for this highly-embarrassing story...
In 2006 I agreed to donate even though I’ve fainted everytime I’ve had so much as an injection.
It all went swimmingly until I saw the (small and I’m assured painless) needle, at which point I let out a loud wail, shrieked that I was going to throw up and promptly fainted onto a good-looking doctor.
I remained conscious just long enough to realise I’d caused A Really Big Fuss.
As I recovered from my ‘ordeal’ I watched with ever-growing-despondency as others came, gave their blood and left without fuss.
It came as no surprise when I was politely asked to think long and hard before signing up in the future.
Apparently four members of staff is a bit much for one person who hasn’t contributed a single drop yet.
I now hope anyone with a better constitution than me (that would be all of you) will sign up.
If you manage to donate you’ll get a free biscuit and glass of juice and the knowledge you’ll be saving lives.
You’ll also be doing a heck of a lot better than I did.
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