Well That Explains It

Morning weigh-in: 180.5#, 13.5% BF

Had a fasting blood test this morning. Rode last night after dinner, then basically went to bed. I didn't realize that "fasting" does not mean "no water either," but I was supposed to drink all I wanted... Three needles and two phlebotomists later, they say I'm dehydrated and my veins have shrunk so they have to use "the butterfly," ie the needle they use on infants. Long and short of it is, mission accomplished, but that explains what happened to me on 9-11.

I left work early that day like everybody else here, and then did a ride on the towpath to calm down. When I got home I felt an overwhelming need to "do something," so I went down to Miller Blood Center to give blood. Apparently a lot of other people had the same idea; the place was packed and I waited about five hours (well after midnight) before my turn came. The nurse was understandably frazzled and couldn't find my veins on either arm, and though I got stuck I left without giving blood. The worst I ever felt about 9-11 was on the ride home that night.

For years afterward, whenever I needed to give blood or get an IV, I warned the technicians to be extra careful, since I had "very small veins." They'd chuckle indulgently and say "OK, Mr. Kelly..." and there'd of course be no problem. Until today that is, when the truth finally came out.