aka American Red Cross,

Thank you for your recent letter/series of phone calls (even though I have asked repeatedly to be taken off your call list) informing me how much you desperately need my type O blood. I would love to give you my blood; however, every time I try recently, you reject me* (last time you accepted the little old lady who got there after I did, saying she was “healthy as a horse” – talk about embarrassing). I appreciate your helpful suggestions that I eat more red meat/eat more dark leafy greens/take an iron supplement/sleep/eat. FYI, I do all of these things – according to my calculations, I get WAY over my daily iron requirement. Apparently however, my body just functions normally at a 12.4 hemoglobin level, whereas you demand a 12.5 level (Really, if you need blood that badly, just give me a waiver.** I will sign it and happily give you my (awesome) type O blood. I am a great donator. Seriously. The Bro, my dad, and I are cut out for donating. You will be shocked at how quickly we fill the bag. And at how we don’t even seem fazed afterwards).

However, maybe it’s not me – maybe it’s you. While I am not up on the medical technology used to measure hemoglobin levels at these mobile donation centers and am not, say, a doctor, I strongly suspect that a person generally does not have two drastically different hemoglobin readings from ONE HAND (I have googled and asked the internets, but no answer so far). For example, when you get a 12.4 reading from one finger and then prick the finger DIRECTLY next to it in an attempt to get a reading over 12.5 because you REALLY want my blood, but get an 11.1, it seems there might be a problem with your equipment. Just a thought.



*Not to worry – after time number two of being rejected and being told I was likely anemic, I went to my doctor and she did a full and complete blood work. And she was very surprised that I keep being rejected because my levels are apparently 100% normal.

**When I told the boyfriend all this, he was basically like “oh well, you tried.” (The boy is terrified of needles and so does not understand why anyone would even try to donate blood in the first place). What he seems to miss is that this is like failing. And I do NOT like failing (hear that, ARC? It’s on).