-Let there be no bad blood between us-

All hail the local Jewish Community Center, for hosting the latest blood drive.
All hail keystrokes "o", "l", "p" and "."; adversely affected by the iron test administered to the right ring finger.

lop.lop.lop.

Just a slight twinge.

The actual bloodletting didn't cause any pain. Something went wrong, though. Perhaps the tourniquet was too tight, (it certainly felt like it) or the needle jumped in the removal. "Raise your arm above your head, and apply constant pressure to the cotton."

This I did, but a moment later, one of the interviewers "Have you ever given money or drugs for sex?" brought more glove boxes to the table, glanced my way, and then tapped the pathology assistant. "Atolya." she said, and pointed my way.

My cotton swab was saturated, and now a pair of long, slow, drips blazed twin trails past my elbow. Atolya moved quickly to mop them up, more, I suspect, to preserve the confidence of the volunteers giving or waiting to give blood, than out of any real danger to myself or others. New bandages were brought, and I was given a more thorough wrap than the others waiting in the canteen. Even so, the halos of dried blood and iodine are still visible when I pull back my sleeve. I imagine it looks something like the tattoo that would have denied me the ability to give blood; something to impress the Europeans and American Ex-pats after six month's time in a place that would likewise have denied me the blood giving ability.

lop.lop.lop.lop.lop.lop.lop.lop.lop.lop.lop.lop.

Feels better already.