WordRidden

Do something amazing.

Wednesday, November 26th, 2008

I donated blood yesterday, for the second time ever.

The first time was just about a year ago. Spurred on partially by Jeremy and partially by the National Blood Service TV ads (god, that music—I was welling up just listening to it on the website), I finally overcame my complacency and trundled down to Hove Town Hall to donate a pint.

I admit, I was a bit nervous. I’m not particularly squeamish about needles or blood, but I don’t especially like to be jabbed and I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the whole procedure. As it turned out, it was absolutely fine; all the “donor carers” were gentle and reassuring, and frankly, they make you feel like a bit of hero for being willing to donate at all. Plus, you get tea and biscuits afterwards—yay!

Between going to Thailand in February and then traveling back and forth to the States throughout the year, Jeremy and I couldn’t donate again until this month (because of the risk of malaria from Thailand and West Nile virus from the States). But yesterday, after a fortifying lunch at E-Kagen, we headed over to the donation session for our second round of bloodletting.

After it was over, Jeremy said that the whole thing had restored his faith in humanity, and while it may sound funny, I have to agree. You see an entire cross-section of the population at these donation sessions; yesterday there was a big guy with tattoos (which he must have gotten a long time ago or else he couldn’t have donated), a kid in a hoodie, older men and women, people who had clearly just nipped out from the office, a hip couple in their 20s… It was a little snapshot of Brighton, and I wondered what had prompted each person to come and donate. Whatever the reason, the important thing was that they were there, voluntarily giving a part of themselves to help someone else.

If you can donate blood and you don’t faint at the sight of a needle, I would really encourage you to do it. You’ll feel good about yourself, you’ll feel good about your fellow citizens, and you’ll be saving someone’s life.

4 comments

Back from Japan

Saturday, November 22nd, 2008

I can’t wait to visit again…

1:22pm 2 comments

Nihon-ni ikimasu!

Tuesday, November 4th, 2008

I’m going to Japan!…

12:12am 2 comments

Nihongo

Saturday, September 27th, 2008

I think I’m learning Japanese, I think I’m learning Japanese, I really think so…

12:28pm 1 comment

Deconstructing dConstruct

Wednesday, September 10th, 2008

A week of geek…

9:44am 2 comments

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Lost In Translation
My professional site
Salter Cane
My rockstar alter-ego
Principia Gastronomica
Being a journal of culinary delights

Reading

The Comfort of Strangers by Ian McEwan

This is a strange little book, and definitely not McEwan’s best, though the first chapter in particular offers a very astutely observed snapshot of a stagnant relationship. Though the name of the city in which the book is set is never mentioned, I instinctively pictured the action taking place in Venice. On the plus side, The Comfort of Strangers nicely evokes an oppressive aura of stultification and a grim forboding which recalls “Don’t Look Now” or “Death in Venice”. On the minus side, I struggled to find a point in the whole book: two people are bored with each other, they meet two other people who turn out to be nasty, terrible things happen, the end. Or maybe the point is that sometimes there is no point…

Further reading…