Ode to my Father.

This post goes out to my dad. You don't have to be around me long, to notice that I inherited quite a few qualities from my father. I am proud of most of them; however, I am dedicating this post to one that I usually try to keep hidden. It was all brought about yesterday at work...So yesterday was the annual Somerset CPAs blood drive. For the past two weeks straight, they have been advertising for it at work. I, knowing that I am not the best with needles AND blood, decided to not commit to a slot in the initial sign-up stage. But two days ago, they started trying to entice people in by offering some pretty good door prizes for those who participate.

A part of me really wanted to conquer my fear, but even the court-side Pacers tickets weren't quite enough. I have never given blood before, I got really close once, but chickened out in the last minute. So at about 10:00 yesterday morning, I started thinking, you know...I really should have signed up, I could have done it. Not a minute later, an e-mail was sent out saying there was now a 10:30 opening. I got caught in a moment of bravery and went over to the desk of my good friend and told her to escort me down, to ensure that I didn't rethink my decision. So in we went (it was her first time as well).

I answered all of the questions, let them check my vitals (I believe my pulse was well over 100 bpm) and prick my finger to check the iron in my blood. I walked calmly over to the chair, took a seat, and tried to play it off like a seasoned veteran. After what seemed like an hour of prep work, the nurse (who I learned had only been doing this since the end of July, but doesn't "miss" very often), produced the needle, stuck it in my clammy arm, and announced that she hadn't missed. That is about all I remember of the whole ordeal, the next thing I remember is waking up and being surrounded by like five people (one trying to put my shoe back on, one putting wet cloths on my forehead and neck, and the others working on removing the needle, and bandaging the "wound"). So the inevitable happened, I had passed out. Now I am the new girl that faints. Thanks Dad, for those tough-as-nails genes you gave me.