The other week, it was that time again – time to head down to the Rhode Island Blood Center and donate. Moonie couldn’t wait!
He’s always quick to donate his little thimble of rainbow-colored troll blood, and then he’s usually nice enough to come cheer me on, because he knows I’m not crazy about needles.
He got so excited when the nice Rhode Island Blood Center ladies gave him his very own RIBC sticker, he climbed right up onto my freshly-donated blood and sang (to the tune of the Village People’s “YMCA”), “It’s fun to come to the R – I – B – C!” We had to ask him nicely not to tap dance on the blood, though.
Boy, does he love his little sticker!
How time flies! Yesterday Moonie grabbed me and said it was time for another appointment to donate at the Rhode Island Blood Center. It’s important to help people who might need our blood, so off we went!
When we checked in, we were encouraged to each grab and drink a bottle of water. So we did.
Then, Moonie made sure to give me permission to donate blood. Thanks, little dude!
Trolls are exempt from paperwork, so while I filled in my human answers, Moonie checked out the pretty artwork taken by local photographers.
He also munched on some pretzels. But don’t worry; he shared them.
Once again, the Rhode Island Blood Center came to our work and held a blood drive. Moonie signed us right up!
We got our blood pressure checked together…
…and our fingers pricked…
…and then we were all set to donate!
Moonie and I have had three whole months to regenerate our blood, so when a blood drive came to our work last week, we signed right up. He was so happy to be able to help out again! He gallantly let me go first (mostly so he could play with the blood pressure cuff).
Then he cheered me on while he got ready to donate himself. I got curious and asked what his blood type was.
“Orange zebra seven,” he responded.
“Not purple cow six?” I teased.
“That’s not a real blood type,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.
Well, excuse me.
I have a confession: I’ve spent more of my life donating blood than not donating blood, but I still haven’t learned to enjoy it.
But it’s much more bearable when you have Moonie along for the ride.
I’m borderline anemic, so I bulk up on iron pills and things like red meat and spinach and Raisinets in the days leading up to each appointment at the Rhode Island Blood Center, but I still end up having my blood spun in the centrifuge to make sure the iron count is high enough. Sometimes they even have to prick more than one finger to try more than one spin. Moonie comforted me from the finger pricks.
He reminded me, when they brought out the intimidating bags and my heart started speeding up, that each pint can save up to three peoples’ lives and that I was doing a good thing. He’s a good little cheerleader.