We drove downtown today so I could donate blood. It was my fifteenth donation. There’s always a big need for blood, but especially now with the current pandemic. Please consider donating. My little blog entry continues below.
A flower of red
Soft warmth against my forearm
A life struggles on.
INTJ’s are often described as cynics in Myers Briggs write-ups. If the article is being fair, this innate cynicism is framed around an INTJ knowing how things should be–aka, not like the current state of affairs. As an INTJ, I observe this trait within myself. I’m often skeptical of nonprofits, charities and other agencies with grand, doe eyed missions. I once heard someone share about an agency that planned to eradicate poverty entirely through money–and fairly quickly. I scoffed. Whenever was poverty just about money–particularly generational poverty? If the problem was that simple, wouldn’t it have been solved ages ago? That’s like saying cancer is just about radiation—so much more goes into combating such a crippling disease.
Today was my seventh time donating whole blood. I have a personal goal to continue donating blood as long as I’m able. I’m screened thoroughly each time, I’m thanked as well and needles and blood have never made me queasy. I find blood fascinating actually; all that rich redness is beneath my skin, all day, every day, working to keep me alive and functioning. For that I’m grateful. Dracula is, too.