Wednesday, August 11, 2010


Spent the last few days drinking lemonade, taking care of cats, city wanderings, hitting up the Puerto Rican festival for carnival rides and people-watching, late night coffee, getting frustrated with the male species, Indian food with my sister, meeting my probation officer, walks to Edgewater, wondering why I can hear the Paramore concert from a back porch that is 2 miles away, and worrying about my dad. He's not getting any worse, but he's not getting better. They've given him 7 pints of blood already and are running test after test.

I used to donate blood when I was in high school even though I'm deathly terrified of needles and the last few times I've been anemic and such low blood pressure (because I don't stress myself much) I haven't been able to do it. I think I might try to do it again.

1 comment:

Ricky Shambles said...

All the best to your pops. That sucks.

First time I tried to give blood, I passed out after they pricked my finger. But kept going back. I've got it to staying conscious through the prick and the donation as long as they put up my legs halfway through and let me sip juice for 10 minutes after.

That Capri-Sun straw they call a needle scares the shit out of me, though.