Bloodlines

Blood is a funny thing.  Some people can binge watch all eight seasons of  beheadings in “Game of Thrones” then get lightheaded when their  4 year old scrapes his knee. Weird.  Likewise, years ago I was invited to a British Pub in St. Petersburg where I was the only American in the place.  Every other word that night was “fuck,” so to fit in I yelled out “Bloody Hell!”  God, you’d think I swore in church it got so quiet.  I get the same reaction when I push the swinging doors open at the oncologist’s office for the weekly blood draw.  I’ve been stuck so many times my veins hide from the techs.  When I arrive a hush goes over the office when they ask me which arm should they try.  That’s like the electrician asking me which wires he should connect to the electrical panel. “I guess there” doesn’t give me a lot of confidence.  Trust me, it’s not this hard to bleed outside the doctor’s office. 

One Fall day after elementary school my brother Chris, our cousins John and James, and I decided to have a stick war on the camp porch.  We hadn’t even established the rules of engagement yet when John jumped the gun and  yelled, “Fire” so we started chucking sticks at each other.  All was fine until James ran out of ammo, stuck his head up, and shouted, “Cease Fire.”  Chris, being a Mohawk Indian fan tomahawked one final pine branch directly into the top of James’ head.  We were stunned, it was sticking straight up like a periscope.  John, a true cowboy, yanked the stick out like an arrow.  The only comparison I can make now to the red fountain squirting everywhere is the Prom scene in “Carrie.”  No fatal injuries, other than another bad reason local teenagers avoided babysitting at our house.  Before you judge; bloodletting is not just for kids.  One Saturday night when I was home from college one of the locals put his fist through the front window of the Burleigh House Tavern, severed an artery, then started spraying people as they walked past on Montcalm Street.  It was funny for the first half hour until he ran out of beer money and  passed out.

Now all this gore aside, blood samples and donations provide the best diagnostic and therapy tools known to man; but people avoid both religiously.  When I was at Duke and short on funds my classmates and I would hit the Duke blood bank on Fridays then go out bar hopping.  It’s amazing how cheap a date you can be after giving a pint of blood.  Now that inflation is soaring you should consider donating then drinking as an excellent cost saving strategy.  As for blood tests, most diseases today can be identified with a simple blood draw.  In 2019 routine blood work on my annual physical identified I had lymphoma again.  I had zero symptoms, but a small vile of fluid said otherwise.  I know, I know, I know; blood makes you queesy.  But for your own good, while you’re watching “Saw 15 in 3d” or  playing a gore filled Walking Dead video game, at least schedule an annual physical with a blood test.  It will save your life.  Slainte!