My parents, to their credit, have been lifelong blood givers. It’s been something I’ve been meaning to do for a long time. So when mum got a reminder letter on Friday for some open session times next week, I rang up to volunteer. The lady on the phone was delighted. It was looking promising until she read off a criteria I had to pass to see if I was eiligble.
“Have you had a baby in the past nine months?”
“Well, yes, I have – although it barely counts because he’s nine months on Sunday” (Happy nine month birthday, Riley!)
“Ok, I can let that pass. You see, if you have a small baby we don’t tend to accept women, because their bodies are still generally recovering and we do what’s best for her, and the baby. Are you breastfeeding?”
“Yes”
“Ah – – well, unfotunately we don’t let mothers give blood, pretty much for the same reason as above. Come back when you’ve weaned”
D’oh. Some lucky person has missed out on my A+ blood.
