Friday, 12 June 2026

Bloody hell, or blood down the well. Whatevs

 I have been donating blood for a long time.  It quietly matters to me, but I don't want to be thanked for it.  If I can, I should.  

In the past few years, it's been slightly harder - it's just age,  I've cut back from three times a year to two, which seems sensible.  I've also asked my sister to make dinner that evening and to feed the cats that afternoon, since I fainted at the top of the stairs a while ago and woke up at the bottom, luckily without injury.

Anyway, I failed the blood test this afternoon.  106, when they want 125+ and anything under 115 is anaemic.  I know myself and anything under 120 is anaemic.  No idea why it's failed, rather, since January.  I've phoned the GP  practice and, if I don't get blood tests then I'll pay for them.  Not that I care all that much, in one sense, but one has to take responsibility.  

In other news, I normally avoid alcohol and have an early night after a donation.  No obligation about any of that ridiculousness.  Party on, darlings.  

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