There are cards in my wallet that I hope are never tested. One, my conceal carry permit, says that yes, if I must, I will employ deadly force in defense of life. Another, my first Aid/CPR certification, says that I’ve taken the classes to potentially save a life if something dreadful happens. I’d like to have a third. One that says I will give away part of my own life blood, but I don’t get to have one of those. Which is probably for the best since my veins are tiny and like to hide from needles. And then there is the whole blacking out business like A Girl’s recent experience.
Do you give blood? Have you ever thought about it?
My mother always has. She gets the call as often as they can call her. She calls them the vampires. Such is the burden of an O Negative. Universal donor. She’s probably saved the lives of countless strangers. She’s a renewable resource! Unless she should find herself in need. Because although her blood can be given to anyone, she can only receive it from another O- source. Not even the ever eloquent Brigid could help her out there.
We don’t think much about our blood unless it is spilled. In most cases, it’s just a little and we can patch ourselves up. But not always. And in those times, it’s the most precious thing in the world.