Blood: To The Dogs Or Whoever

The tech picked a stray white hair from my shoulder then apologized.

"Sorry, it was driving me crazy."

I shrugged. I have two cats and a dog. Wearing a black shirt is risky under the best of circumstances.

"It's okay," I told her then explained about the pets.

"I've got three cats and a dog," she laughed and began the tedious process of sampling my blood and figuring out whether I'm healthy enough to donate.

To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure. My allergies or an early cold seemed to be coming on, but no sore throat. I felt fine --just a little tired. Also, I figured if I was sick, now would be a great time to see if there were any side effects from donating plasma. Would I stay sick longer? Would it be worse? Inquiring minds wanna know.

Also, I needed money for tolls tomorrow.

The tech told me, "I never really thought of myself as a dog person. I love my cats, but the dog is my sweetheart." She frowned and looked down. "The dog belonged to a friend. She was very special to me." She sighed, still sad. "She had a liver disease and she was fine for a long time and then she wasn't. She was on the transplant list, but..." She shook her head. She didn't make it. "She went pretty quick --just about a year ago, I guess."

By this point, my eyes were as big around as saucers.

"Was it hepatitis C? I've got a friend and I kind of worry..."

The tech smiled sadly and shook her head.

"No, it wasn't hepatitis," she said. "What she had spread. It shut her kidneys down. I took in her dog," she added then groaned, "who I'm mad at right now. Last night, I get home and she's following me around, but then she wouldn't go in the bedroom with me."

She knew something was up.

"I figured she'd pooped on the floor." But no, no poop. "The little monster peed on my bed."

We both laughed. It wasn't that funny.

My readings were fine. She waved me back and I told her I was sorry about the dog. I didn't mean the dog, of course.

She said thanks and hoped my friend was okay.