Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero.-Marc Brown

The first time I ever donated blood (yeah I actually did it again after this)

At my high school if you were over 16 and had parents permission you could get out of class to donate blood on blood drive days. Pretty much only the kids who actually had debilitating phobias about blood or needles didn't donate because "DUDE YOU GET OUT OF CLASS!"

So during the first blood drive of my senior year I reported promptly for my appointment during second period. They set me up on a cot, got the line running and went to work on another student. Normally it takes about 15 minutes or so to fill the bag but when the phlebotomist (sp?) came back just a couple minutes later to check if things were flowing properly they discovered the bag was full. I've never discovered what exactly went wrong but I did discover the hard way that if I loose that much blood that quickly I pass out. Luckily someone caught me and put me back on the cot.

After an hour they decided to try getting me up again and......I passed out. So I lay back down and passed the time chatting with the other students who came and went in the cot next to mine. Finally they got me up and walked me to the table where there was juice and snacks (not sure why they didn't try giving me some while I was still on the cot, maybe because we were in the library). I had a little meal and chatted with my friend who was there and after a bit they told me I could go to class so I got up and.....passed out. This time I was caught by a very cute boy, which would have been a total movie moment but he was dating a friend of mine so oh well. Back to the cot for me, luckily my friend who'd been at the snack table had the good sense to go get my lunch for me. They tried to send me to class again a while latter and I guess I collapsed in the hallway and someone brought me back but I don't remember that part. Don't ask me why my parents weren't called or maybe a hospital because I don't know. Any way I finally made it back to class during seventh period (six hours later) and walked in to class half way through an Algebra test. My teacher took one look at me and said I could make it up.

I was actually feeling pretty much better by the time I got on the bus to go home. The Jr. High students also rode our bus. Normally my brother (who was in seventh grade)and I each hung out with our own friends but he saw how awful I looked and asked what was wrong so I told him the whole story, with help from our next door neighbor (the one who got my lunch) filing in the parts where I was unconscious. My poor brother was very upset. The bus stop was about half a mile from our house and my brother insisted on walking with us and every few blocks he made me sit down and rest, it must have taken us twice as long as usual to get home. Once we were in the house he insisted I lay down on the couch and let him bring me snacks and juice. I'm sure I didn't need the attention by then but he was just being so sweet.

He was like that. Today would have been his 31st birthday. I'm sorry he's not here to celebrate but I'll always love him for the things he did in those first 18 years.