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Five Routine Minutes: Hi. I’m Oma. I’m O Positive.

I got a phone call from The Red Cross requesting that I come in to give blood.

The caller said there was a critical shortage of my type of blood and they’d appreciate it if I’d drop by and leave a pint. I said that I would do that. I help them out when I can because they make me feel so good about what they want me to do. Also, they give me a water bottle.

Mostly, it is that they make me feel good.

There are a series of tests that I have to complete when I give blood. I passed them all.

But then came the lightning round of questions:

“Have you had babesiosis?” No.

“Have you had sex for money?” No.

“Have you had a tattoo?” No.

“Have you had a bone graft?”

Uh-oh, bone graft. I had one back in December. I told them I had a bone graft in my neck. That led to a series of odd questions:

“Was it your own bone that was grafted?”

“So it was donated bone. Do you know whose bone it was?”

“Was it a real bone?”

My questioner left the room. She was gracious when she returned to tell me they couldn’t take any blood donations from me for a year because I don’t know where part of me came from.

I understand the reason. It just makes sense…though I’m not sure how I will ever know who my donated bone came from. So, I’m going to ask you to do a couple of things for me…

…and please make a blood donation when you can. It’s a nice thing to do and the need is great.

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27 Comments on “Five Routine Minutes: Hi. I’m Oma. I’m O Positive.”

  1. I checked. Sorry. I still seem to have all of my bones. Unless it was a baby tooth? I did lose some of those.

    They don’t want my blood, either. Like, not ever. It kind of hurts my feelings.

  2. The Oma Today Project says:

    I was wondering where that bone went! I’d figured I’d accidentally put it out with the recycling.

    Maybe you should consider adding this Q&A to your About page. Interesting facts. . . .

  3. Lenore Diane says:

    “I don’t know. I was sleeping pretty hard.” Funny stuff, Oma.

    Though that bone looks familiar, it does not belong to me. Thanks for checking.

    I give blood. The arm/vein they use is greatly loved by those that tap into it. I’m kind of proud of it. While donating, I privately compete with those around me, watching to see if I finish first. Then I heard someone say, “I’m glad I’m a slow bleeder. If I am in an accident, I won’t have to worry about blood loss.” *sigh* Party pooper.

  4. Last time I gave, I gave platelets too. I think I was there for 17 hours. I took 4 bags of cookies, 3 water bottles and 6 granola bars.

  5. Omawarison says:

    I have heard your corpuscles are exemplary, but how are your capillaries?

  6. We Found Him Captain! says:

    in Sicily they give each blood doner a free pizza……..One guy gave so much blood he ate pizza for 6 consecutive weeks and died from blood loss. I think the pizza killed him. He became a bone doner after he died. His bones all looked like little dog biscuits…….

  7. The Jagged Man says:

    The bone in question is not mine so I ask the boy (that’s what I call my dog ) and he dug up his collection: All present and accounted for.
    As far as giving blood I too cannot give, ever, though I do donate to the Red Cross Relief Fund. Good people all around thinks I.

  8. Oma, I just can’t do it. I wish I could show up at a blood bank and say, “Oma sent me. I’m O negative. Stick me.” But I hate needles. Like break-out-in-a-sweat-and-faint-kinda hate. It’s bad.

    The free cookies tempt me though.

  9. susielindau says:

    Dang grafted bone. It’s always something…
    Loved your drawings! I was a medical illustrator and am O positive too! Wow. We have so much in common. Hahaha!
    Came from Blogdramedy’s place… 🙂

  10. Betty says:

    I’m with Thoughtsy. Just can’t do it. But I’m not break-out-in sweat-and faint. I cry. Like a baby.

  11. Pie says:

    I tried to give blood when I was a student, but was refused because my weight was too low. Now I’m Officially Old™ and Officially Fat™, I still can’t give blood because I’ve had major operations, which involved blood transfusions. I don’t have a fear of needles. I would’ve loved to have watched the nurse put it in, then watch the blood shuttle down the tube and into the bag. I have good veins, dammit – it’s not fair!


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