My husband has had trouble in the past with giving blood. . . to the tune of fainting, getting all tingly, and having to lay down while old ladies fuss over him with cookies. But I didn't really think anything about that and the routine lab work we were going to do this morning.
After they took my blood, I came back out and told Dave that it looked like a lot (6 vials!), but it really wasn't and it went fast. I was trying to be positive. He said he didn't want to do it and may have rubbed his palms together in a nervous way, but I didn't think to worry.
Dave seemed to be gone for a while. Then the nurse came out. "Um. Your husband's not doing so well," she said. "He's lying down in the back. You may want to go to him."
She kind of looked at me funny when I laughed. I guess she doesn't know that it's the kind of thing we make fun of him for. Mercilessly.
He did look pretty bad--all white and sweaty. "Don't even say it," he said when I got in there. "I know I'm ridiculous." Then he moved on to telling me, "I feel bad. . . I feel bad. . ."
There's one minor (or major, depending on who you are) difference between going to the lab and donating blood with the Red Cross. At the lab, there are no old ladies or cookies or orange juice. And even if they have some candy in a back room somewhere, they say they'll get in trouble if they give it out. Even if Reese Cups are the one thing that will make a man feel better.
The kids and I trekked downstairs and got an apple from the van. But that wasn't sugary enough so off we went to CVS. On the upside, the kids had fun on their many elevator rides. We brought our invalid some Reese Cups and peanut butter M&M's. Lucky duck. I didn't even say anything about artificial colors and cancer.
On a side note, I just googled "are peanut butter M&M's bad for you?" and most of the posts said something like, "Help! I can't stop eating peanut butter M&M's!" so apparently most people have more of a problem with the addictive nature than with the red 40.
Did I mention there was also a not-fun diaper to change on the van floor in the midst of all this? And we were trying to do everything quickly so the kids could make their 9:45 swim lessons?
It turned out we were only a little late for the lessons. But one kid didn't want to go in the water, (I don't totally blame him. It was cold this morning!) which prompted the teacher to have a talk with me afterwards. Then we had epic meltdowns trying to change into normal clothes. One Mommy who hasn't eaten + one rambunctious toddler + one ornery preschooler in one tiny shower stall = not pretty and lots of "Don't touch each other!" and "You have to get dressed!" and "Your feet are wet because everything's wet!"
Because we all got dressed and Dave made it to work, I decided I should be rewarded with a Grande Decaf Iced Mocha from my favorite downtown coffee shop. It was delicious. It was grand. It was everything I hoped it would be.
Finally we made it home. On the way into the house I was carrying a bag of wet clothes, my coffee, and the dirty cloth diaper. One of the wipes fell out onto the driveway. Then, in a moment of what I can only describe as sheer brilliance, I leaned over to pick it up and dumped my delicious reward all over the driveway. That's what I call the Cherry On Top.