Tell me your story...

I gave blood today.

I confess, I like giving blood and would do it more often if I was allowed to. I love the whole process, and today the lady talked me through what the machine was doing, what the samples were for and average blood giving time...seven minutes.

I did it in 5.40...there is an air of competition in the room when you are doing it.

However, the strangest thing is that people become more relaxed when giving blood. It isn't like the doctors waiting room where everyone just sits quietly pretending that they really needed that emergency appointment, but it is friendly and chatty...it must be the tea and biscuits at the end that gears everyone up.

For me it started with a prick on my finger.
The nurse was very chatty today, told me about her holiday plans and her new boyfriend of six months. All very nice, until she tells me that she was in an abusive relationship for eight years, never thought she was attractive and has completely fallen in love with her new fella...who is just super nice.

Am I the only one these things happen to? What is about me that people start talking about their life story?

Katy, (the nurse) then informed me that she had caught the new boyfriend texting another woman last Sunday. She was of course very hurt, but he had explained to her that he didn't know why he had done it, and she feels that he did it to test her.

Hmmm...anyone else thinking what I am thinking? If he is testing her, why? What is there to test? He either loves her or he doesn't; he either wants to be with her, or wants to be single? It isn't bloody rocket science.

I wanted to say to Katy, "run, girl, run as fast as you can...if he is doing this now, what the hell will he be doing in another six months time."

But I didn't. Because, who the hell am I to judge or give advice when I know absolutely nothing about the situation...but, when I see Katy at the next blood giving session I really hope that the new fella was just going through a blip and it is all good news.

Then over by the biscuits I chat to two guys. One called Peter and the other one called Paul.

Ok, I lied about the second one, I have no idea of his name...but it sounded so much better.
They started talking to me about amateur dramatics, and it turned out that Peter was heavily involved.  I told him I did it many years ago, but not lately as my time was tied up with the children.
"Bring them too," he said.

I had visions of broken scenery and Superman letting off wind during an important solo part...hmm, no.

Anyway...Peter was touring with a group at the moment and he told me how some stages differ. The local one to us wasn't very high, and consequently wasn't geared up for the bigger performances that he wanted to do.
"I want to be able to fly," he said, "how cool would that be?"
"Are there many parts that call for flying," I ask, "apart from Peter Pan? What are you doing at the moment?"
"Oliver."
"Oh...well, maybe they can add in a final scene of Oliver flying off into the moonlight. Very modern."
Nevertheless he told me all about the mechanics of it, and how one can soar like a bird...or a new and improved singing Oliver Twist.

What I liked about the whole set up was the chatting. Someone has always got something to say, and whilst some of it might be someone off loading, (Katy was processing her hurt with a stranger so there was obviously more going on) or whether it is someone teaching you how to fly, I actually quite like the idea that I clearly have stamped on my head...tell me your story!