Thing 29 Donate Blood

That's the before shot. Scroll down to the end and have a look at the haggard face after the blood's gone. Pasty, bags under the eyes. Shocker. You know that they take nearly one pint of your blood in a donation? And here's the cool bit: Your body replaces it entirely within 24 hours. Class! I didn't know my body was as productive as that, I mean, I'm totally bone idle lazy, there's no reason for my biology not to agree with my decision to be a fat mess...

Donating blood is something I've wanted to do for some time, but the kicker is that I'm permanently afraid of needles. I had to get a lumbar-puncture when I was a kid, and it's left me with deep psychological scars, or something like that. One way or another, I'm petrified. Bungee jump from 200ft? No problems. Parachute jump from 10,000ft? Not an issue. Look at a needle, even on the telly? Hell no. Not a chance. Change the damn channel. So while for many of you, this may be a straightforward thing, for me, this was an epic big deal.

Hat's off to all the lovely nurses and professionals who work with the IBTS (Irish Blood Transfusion Service). They were a thoroughly charming bunch. None of them made fun of me as I babbled practically incoherently with the nerves. They also have to ask you a lot of questions, some of them horrendously embarrassing. "Have you had sex with anyone who is paid for drugs or sex in the last year Mr Mooney"? Delivered with a completely straight face (no is the answer by the way, in case any of you are curious). What a terrible thing to have to ask anyone. What if a nun or a priest comes in to give blood? Do they still have to be asked? Or what if it was a family member? I wonder if any of those nice nurses ever had to ask their mothers' if they'd been having sex with a man who also performed oral or anal sex on another man? Seriously, that's actually a question. I feel for anyone who has to ask anyone those questions...

Extra credit for the top notch mammy-ing they do. They all took one look at my face when the needle was going in, realised I was scared stiff, and took it on themselves, and I mean every one of them, to come over and see was I okay. Fifteen minutes and almost one pint of blood later they made me sit at a table and one by one they popped over to offer me coke, orange, chocolate and crisps. I felt like I was ten years old again and about to get a lolly for being a good boy...

I guess sometimes being a complete wimp has its upsides...

Just awful looking. Now scroll back up and read the rest.