This post was inspired by the ToolMaster, who gave blood last weekend and was startled to become the center of attention. The staff gave him a pin, took a photo of him holding up a card with the number of contributions to date. In Canada, blood donations are done without any financial compensation, so their efforts and initiative are welcome and understandable.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop my mind from waxing satiric…
Nobody Donates Better: a Blood-Transfusion Opera
Stage Directions: Curtains open. We see a solitary man sitting in a chair in a medical clinic. A red tube is attached to the inner aspect of his elbow, dripping into a bag. Above him the sign reads Blood Donation Services.
A bevy of buxom beauties enter stage left. They’re dressed in nurses uniforms bearing the insignia of a red cross. Their eyes gleam. Their lips are glossed and parted. As one pins a button on the man’s shirt and takes a photo to commemorate his service, the rest begin that little shimmy-clapping movement done on special occasions in restaurants—the kind where men like to have a birthday bimonthly. The nurses sing the following:
Some women fall for guys with sporty cars
Some ladies’ panties melt for bulging muscles
But we get hot for men with civic minds
Especially when they share their red corpuscles.
How many people have you saved today?
With your donation of platelets, blood, and plasma
When we tally up your pints of contribution
It’s enough to bring us all to an orgasma.
Oh, you, you’re really, really excellent at bleeding
(Shoowap shoowap.)
Oh, you’re really, really talented universal donor
Which is why we’ll give you a free pass
When you show up sporting an occasional b–
Dramatic chords interrupt the nurses’ delivery. As they stare at one another in confusion, a red-head enters stage-left. She too wears a uniform, but her hemline barely covers her crotch and her cross is black and tricked out with bling. Her bosom thrusts out as she parts the crowd—an icebreaker cleaving the North Sea. When she halts in front of the man, her wide-legged stance is aggressive, earthy, and very, very sexy. She sings:
So you’ve bled fifty times in the service of life
Have been praised with words fulsome and hearty
Well, I’ve done this monthly since the age of thirteen
And nobody’s thrown me a party.
Now I can see where you mind is going
But before you offer me Pamprin en mass
Reconsider any ill-conceived comments
Lest I introduce Miss IV pole to Mister Ass.
Do you donate blood? What kind of external motivation works for you?
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Jan, you owe me a new keyboard. ; )
I used to donate in college all the time and haven’t since I had children. You may have inspired me.
But I wrote a sexist piece. The doo-wappers should be male, at least in part. 😉
LOL! You have a strange and wondrous mind. And a talent for rhyming. 😛 Btw-that blood cell pic moves if you look at for more than a second.
I think that picture can also serve as an ink-blot test, too. 🙂
“Strange and wondrous” sounds apt.
Wish you could hear me laughing right now . . . I gave blood two weeks ago, and I could have really used some of your show tunes.
Love this, you naughty little tart!
🙂 I’m glad you enjoyed it, Sarah. Thanks for letting me know. The real test of relevance will be if you remember this the next time you’re in the chair!
Bwaaaaaaaaahahahaha!!! Excellently done. Haha.
I used to donate but haven’t since I had kids. Mainly because it’s super, super draining for me (takes me several days to recover) and I just can’t spare the energy.
Toddlers take a lot out of a person! Some day you’ll be able to return. Hope you’re doing okay. I think of you often.
Congratulations to the Toolman! Did I read this correctly? He’s donated 50 times and they threw him a party? I’ll bet he’s wishing he had a camera so he could take a few pictures. Too funny, Jan. 🙂
I’m up to something like 35 times, so when I reach 50, I hope they don’t throw me this kind of party. Lol. I’m either an O+ or O- so I try to give whenever I have a chance. In fact, I gave last Thursday.
Sheila, I’m not sure how many people were involved, but he reached a certain number and got a pin. They gave him a sign to hold while he sat in the chair and took his photo, then gave him a copy of the photo to bring home. My imagination went waaay overboard, so I’m sure you’ll be fine.
He was touched, actually, and I think it’s a sweet gesture, but the imagery took hold in my head and I decided to run with it.
Great post – wow, you’re really prolific today! I admire and agree with the sentiments here but this will never be my husband. He passes out – we’re not sure if it’s the blood or the needles, but when I was pregnant and needed regular blood tests, he passed out a couple of times. And I was the one getting stuck! My son has a bit of a blood/needle phobia, too. Normal needles/shots don’t bother me but the last time I went to give blood I was turned down because of my history of allergies. Who knew??
Becke, I’ve never been able to give blood either–my heart.
One good thing that came out of Frank’s hospitalization was that he shed his anxiety about needles. I didn’t even know, but he’d been worried for years that he couldn’t handle venopuncture.