…I didn’t make the weight requirement.

On Sunday at 8:30 Carly, Ben, Matt, Ian, the kids and I met for breakfast at B-Evans prior to giving blood. I was super jazzed and excited to get there. I was going to get hooked up to a machine that allows me to donate 2 whole units of red blood cells. Fan-cy!

Except it didn’t happen.

I got there, was approved through the pre-screening and took a seat on one of the cots next to “the machine.” When the ridiculously cranky phlobotomist came over to start the procedure, she looked at my paper and said, “You don’t weigh enough. You don’t meet the weight requirement. Sit over there to do the regular donation.”

Whaaaa….? I have NEVER been told such a thing before. I’m not saying I’m fat or anything, I just always thought weight requirements were for people under 120 pounds or something. Not someone like me who is 5’8″!

I was so upset by this, but I still donated regularly and was happy to do so. Plus, there was also a HUGE turnout.  Even my life-long friend, Kevin, showed up surprisingly and that was an awesome shock, too. He hates needles, but said I’m hard to say no to. Good for me! (Plus, when he found out I couldn’t donate the way I wanted to, he did “the machine” for me instead! How super awesome is that?)

But back to this weight requirement. I kept saying, in a sort of giggle, “I didn’t make the weight requirement…”

When I was brushing my teeth…”Seriously? I’m too light?”

When I was eating breakfast…”I mean, really? Didn’t make the weight requirement?”

When I was driving down the street…”I should have lied. I could have lied.”

When I was at the gym…”Maybe I should stop this madness…then I’d make the weight requirement.”

You get the point.

I guess my real issue is that I wanted to give everything I had for the cause. I thought by doing the ultimate donation, I’d feel so complete. Like I did all I could. But when they said no, I felt so inadequate. As if I just didn’t quite do enough. I know, I know, the fact that I nagged and begged and dragged every human I knew into the building to donate should feel like enough…but I guess, me being me, it just wasn’t.

So you know what I’m going to do about it?

Donate in 8 weeks.

You’ll be hearing from me again.

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About Cassie

Two sisters from two misters. What could be more fun?

Posted on December 22, 2009, in Cassie and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Dude, you might have been denied by “the machine” but you donated in my place because my veins did not cooperate. So Kevin replaced you, and you replaced me. It all worked out! And you are such a HUGE help as a nurse! Don’t ever forget that. I heart you!!

  2. Haha! Well, at least you got to donate the regular way, right?! You’ll get your vindication soon enough!

    And I guess it’s better than having the OPPOSITE problem! How bad would THAT suck?

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