I had a phone call last night arounnd 9:15 - 9:30. It was a woman asking if I could donate platelets in the morning for a patient in Children's Hospital who was A-neg.

I told her sure, and what time did the center open.

Today I showed up there right about their 11 AM opening time, told them about the phone call, then spent the next couple of hours in general conversation and playing along with the game shows on the TV. (Fortunately, my iron reading was solidly okay. Fate?)

They tracked down the person who had called me, and I imagine that the little baggie of icky whiteish stuff is in New Orleans by now.

I left there with (another) Who Dat shirt, plus a 2010 calendar, and some kind of a strange tote bag.

While I was there three people came to donate whole blood, and another one to donate platelets. You can usually tell platelet donors--they bring books with them.

When I'd finished I headed for Arby's and had a double meat sandwich--dressed. I resisted the desire for their chocolate mint swirl drink.

When I finally got back home I was informed by TWO felines that they were on the brink of starvation. (They did, however, let me have a pit stop first.)

I am now trying to mentally reorganize what little organization had been tentatively planned for today.

At least the fuzzy beasts are content, now that they've had an early supper.