Well, I'm back. Tomorrow I'm giving blood and feel somewhat anxious about it. For some reason, my veins run deep so it makes finding them difficult. I'm prodded here, there, and sometimes, I've even had the needle go all the way into my arm only to have it withdrawn while the tech would mutter, "Well, that didn't work." More prodding, then another go at it. I hate it. This is the reason that I give blood about once every decade unlike Tubby, who gives blood about four times a year.

Picture It. . .
Karen sitting at the table her finger poised ready for the prick. The tech tears open the package holding the sterile pad then swipes my finger with it.

"AAhhhhHHHHHHH!"

The tech jumps her eyes wide, then she says, "Geez, I haven't even pricked you yet."

"Sorry," I mutter.

Then, there's all those small plastic bags of blood that are being stored away in ice chests. It's positively creepy.

But, I do enjoy having those little snacks and juices afterwards. I don't care what anyone says - having those does make it all better, although I'm wondering if they will ever give out Sour Patch Kids.