Saturday, February 7, 2009

Why I Don't Give Blood ...

Lisa is really good about giving blood when the opportunity presents itself. I, however, am not, but I have good reason. Reason that reared its head again this weekend.

When we bought our house, we inherited sliding glass doors on all the tubs. At the time the doors were simply an asthetic issue. When Claire came along, the doors became a problem at bath time and it was time for them to go.

Demolition is fun, and I was ready to get in there and start ripping the doors out. After a couple of issues with rusty screws, I made pretty short work of the demo and all I had left was to scrape away the remaining caulk.

With about three scrapes to go, my hand slipped down the scraping tool and it sliced my ring finger open. About 1.5 seconds later the blood started rushing out. For some reason my first reaction was to put my finger in my mouth (I guess it help prevent blood from getting everywhere).

I walked out into the hall and told Lisa that I cut myself. She asked if it was bad and it occurred to me that I had no idea how bad it was because my finger was in my mouth. I took it out and the blood gushed.

Off the the bathroom and I was trying to get a bandaid on. Not working, and the more of my blood that I saw, the higher my axiety level. Thankfully Lisa was much cooler under pressure and gave me a damp towel to apply pressure.

With pressure applied, I started down the hall to take a seat and the living room but didn't make it. I started to black out halfway down the hall, but was able to plop down in the entryway and gather myself.

Lisa came to check on me and was surprised to see me on the ground. I was literally dripping sweat, and had to change my shirt shortly after. She brought me a water and a wet rag for my neck and I finally settled down.

As far as cuts go, it's a pretty good one, but the severity of my reaction did not coincide with the severity of the injury and that's why I don't give blood.

If I did, I'd be sitting on the floor with a glass of spilled orange juice and a broken cookie.

1 comment:

Kathryn said...

ahhh Brad!! haha, don't worry... my dad's the same way.