So, in my quest to become less of a selfish person, I donated blood today.
For the first time ever. I know, I know.
I used to have a thing about blood, and needles. And blood. My blood, coming out of my body.
But other people's blood, too. A few years ago, my wife broke a coffee mug, and gashed her arm badly. Blood all over. Urgh.
Also not helping was a tale my mother told, about a time she gave blood. She was lying there, and she saw blood shooting into the air. She thought that was strange. And then she realized it was coming from her.
But today, I went to the Red Cross with my wife, who had an appointment for herself (she'd given at a blood drive at work last year, and the Red Cross called and asked her to give more). She didn't pressure me at all into giving. But once there, I sucked it up and did it. And I feel better for it.
A little pain, a little time. But I did read 66 pages of a script. And they give you juice and snacks afterward. Can't beat that.
So I think it'll be a regular thing. A bonding thing with my wife, too. Which is sort of cool.