For the first time in ages, I gave blood once again today. According to my donation history, which I can review online — because doing anything these days requires an app or an online account — the last time I gave whole blood was on July 25th, 2024. I donated platelets on August 7th, 2024, and again on January 2nd, 2025, and then I avoided the American Red Cross for a year because they wouldn’t stop spamming me EVERY SINGLE DAY with robocalls. They’re still doing it, but by this time I’ve blocked the telephone numbers they’ve been using. Well, most of them. Every month or so they switch to a new number, which I block immediately.

I can’t recall now what I was thinking of yesterday that spurred me to search for upcoming blood drives. I found there was going to be one today at a local tavern, of all places, so I signed up to donate whole blood. That’s a lot better for me because it normally takes only 10 to 15 minutes, although it took a little bit longer today because the technician couldn’t find the vein. She said built-up scar tissue was making it hard for her to get the needle in. A more experienced tech had to poke around in my arm for five or ten seconds to hit the right spot and get the blood going. After that, I filled the pint bag fairly quickly.

One of the odd things I thought about while giving blood: I’m AB NEG, the rarest blood type. I’ve always thought of that as a badge of honor, like I was giving something super special, but NOPE. What they really want is the universal donor, type O. An AB NEG donation can only be given to an AB NEG patient. It’s virtually useless, unless they spin the plasma out of it. I think she said they can give my plasma to anybody. So, yeah. Not feeling so smug any more.

When I visited the dentist to get my teeth cleaned, the hygienist took my blood pressure with a bracelet that went around my wrist. It was entirely automatic. She slipped it onto my wrist over my shirt cuff, pressed a button, then turned away to do some paperwork. A minute later, she turned back to read my blood pressure from a little screen on the bracelet. It was astronomically high, something like 195 over 160. She read it out loud to me, then asked, “Is it always that high?” She was very casual, as if she saw people with BP that high every day. I answered “no” with a laugh. Pretty sure I’d be in the hospital if I had a BP like that. Or on my way to a morgue.

I was thinking about going to the clinic to get my blood pressure checked, just to find out what it really was, but never did. I wasn’t especially worried. It couldn’t possibly have been that high. But today when I gave blood, they took my blood pressure, because they always do. Again, the tech used an automatic cuff that went around my upper arm. Although I was sure the dental hygienist got my BP wrong last time, I was relieved when my BP was normal this time, something like 140 over 60.

I can’t help wondering: Why was the dental hygienist so relaxed about my having a BP that was high enough to be orbiting the planet? Why didn’t she retake my BP if she suspected it was high, just to make sure the automatic cuff got it right? And, why do dental hygienists take my blood pressure anyway? Are they worried that cleaning my teeth will stress me out enough to pop an aneurysm? I’ll have so many questions next time I go in for a cleaning.