Wednesday 13 June 2007

Love Like Blood

The majority of people reading this seem to be Doctor Who fans, or, in other words, mainly practicing inverts or children preparing to practice inversion in the future (Doctor Who fan cliché 1), so this sadly won’t apply to most you, but might just to the remainder of the majority- that is dull, middle-aged heterosexual men (Doctor Who fan cliché 2) or indeed to the alleged trace element of the majority- some women, apparently (Doctor Who fan myth 7017283765842).

You could give blood you know. www.blood.co.uk

I did yesterday, for the first time in six years, admittedly (I get a lot of colds, alright, and they say not to give when you’ve got one, and erm, I forgot and I was erm, busy).

It’s still mildly unpleasant and still far too like a forty-six year old comedy show, but it doesn’t take loads of time- and you know, a pint – that’s very nearly a pound and a fifth instant weight loss, which you, me and all the other Hancockish, dull, middle-aged men still reading this could probably do with.

So if-

· you’re not a man who has sex with men or a woman who might have,
· you don’t think you’ve got or had any of that crazy hepatitis alphabet,
· you have not had an amazing exotic holiday in the last twelve months,
· you haven’t had a big operation or received blood in the last thirty years or so,
· you haven’t got a heart condition (that’s why Ernie Wise went with Glenda Jackson not Eric, on the Public Information Film, how could I not have realised?),
· you haven’t had anything pierced recently, and
· you don’t inject drugs,


it’s quite a good way to both feel good about yourself and a little bit woozy very briefly.

I’m talking to myself now, aren’t I? I’ve described an average weekend for half of you.

There is a movement I believe to try and get this “don’t does and don’ts” list tweaked because it’s a bit of naff '80s AIDS epidemiology thing at the mo that doesn’t really apply to modern life so well; rather sillily still permitting high-risk heterosexual activity in donors and neglecting to address the very real truth that most homosexual men’s lifestyles are so low risk they’re dull enough to be Doctor Who fans.

But if you’re allowed to do it, do it. God knows there’s few enough people are.

You get to talk to nurses and get a free drink and everything, and you can even read a copy of Men’s Health or Marie Claire in quiet, uncomprehending despair while your psychic defences are down.
They had biscuits too, but I made my excuses and left.

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