blood letting

My other organizes a blood drive at his boys' club every 3 months or so. This is, for all intensive purposes, a good civic duty. I haven't donated blood in about 10 years. This evening, my other asked me to come down to the boys' clubhouse and donate. I was so torn about donating. I am against blood banks not accepting gay men as donors, despite the high risk of HIV and AIDS contraction amongst all social groups despite gender, age, ethnicity and sexual orientation (for example, did you know that women are twice as likely to contract the disease than men, despite their sexual practices?). On the other hand, should one of my gay friends be in need of blood I wouldn't hesitate in giving. So, in the end I gave...but I'm still going to encourage everyone to pressure the FDA (who instituted and enforced the nationwide ban against sexually active gay men donating since 1979) to overturn their ban. Be on the lookout for form e-mails to send to people in political power, like your congress-person, from me in the near future.

Anywho... today was a very stressful and hectic day at work. Ask Kansas, she was there. After work, I ran down to the boys' clubhouse and filled out the blood center's questionnaire and had my iron level checked and proceeded to give my pint. Reminder... 10 years since I last gave blood. Before I gave, I asked the nurse why the blood bank needed my social security number. "Here's a pamphlet about that." Okay. When the needle was removed from my arm I noticed some bruising. I pointed that out to the nurse. "Here's a pamphlet about that." I flashed back to when my mom and I had that talk about sex. "Here's a pamphlet about that." No joke! That's how I received my sex education from my mom.

After I gave I became dizzy, tingly in my hand and arm, hot then cold then hot then cold again, and I felt like I was going to black out. Three times. It felt really good to lay down and to close my eyes. I began to nap a little but I was immediately energized by the thought of Isaac's "Donna story." After 4 years that story still makes me laugh. Sorry, regressing. Where was I? Oh, yeah... when I near-passed out the first time, I thought to myself, "fuck! The last time I was lying on a gurney was when I went to the hospital for emergency gall bladder surgery and the last thing I remember before I was knocked out was telling the anesthesiologist that I was sorry for not brushing my teeth before I checked into the emergency room." Well, every 5 to 10 minutes one of the nurses would come up to me, sometimes too close, to ask if I was alright or if I was ready to sit up, and I kept thinking, "fuck! If something happens to me I'm going to be so mad because I should have brushed my teeth before I came here." Some people worry about clean underwear. Others...

To make a long story short... I survived the ordeal. Was it scary? No, only embarrassing, because I repeatedly nearly died in front of my other's boys' club members/friends. Will I do it again? Not if I have a crazy/stressful day like the one I had today. Was it worth it? Only if I can say, "I'm doing it because it will save Isaac's life," or something along those lines. Sorry, Isaac. If you feel uncomfortable being my token gay male I can always ask IPJ.