I’ve known my blood group since Weeza was born – I was given a card with it on and kept it in my handbag for years until my bag was stolen. I didn’t think much of it – I’ve the same group as my mother had, O rh+ and, whilst I’ve never asked my sister what hers is, she must know it because she’s had a transfusion.
When Weeza was expecting Zerlina, she mentioned to me that she has Rhesus negative blood. I’m not sure how this is passed down, whether I can carry it as a recessive gene or whether it has to come direct, so I asked her father what his blood group is. He doesn’t know. This isn’t entirely surprising, as he has his blood pressure checked regularly and yet can never tell me what it is, nor what his cholesterol count is (I get round that lack of boring info by not being tested), but it must be on his medical record and if I went for occasional check-ups like a sensible person, I’d have asked the nurse sometime. I wasn’t told the blood group of any of my children, by the way, when they were born or at any other time, so I still don’t know my sons’ and I doubt they’ve got any reason to.
Anyway, it made me ask around a bit, and most women seem to know and a lot of men don’t. This may be because women who’ve had babies have their blood group checked and remember, whereas men only know if they’ve another reason to. Every one of you who has replied knows, so it doesn’t really indicate anything except that we smart bloggers and blog-readers know a bit about our bodies and that the Sage isn’t bothered.
I did ask about giving blood after an operation and (they checked I’m not having one in the next few weeks, they’re always very considerate) they said I can come back whenever I feel ready. Assuming I’ve not had a blood transfusion, that is. And, those of you who can’t donate because they’re anaemic, I wasn’t strong enough to for years. I wasn’t checked for anaemia, but I used to feel faint quite regularly like a Victorian Miss, so I thought it wouldn’t be a good idea. Indeed, I’ve been turned away once because of low iron levels.
I met my friend Albert at the clinic. He was giving his 50th donation. Well done, Albert – that’s something I won’t achieve, I know.
Today, I’ve been slogging round outlying villages delivering leaflets to specific houses and being highly frustrated (not for the first time) by the abysmal level of street and house labelling. Houses are often numbered at random and names may be put anywhere – impossible to spot as a car driver and if it’s a long road I don’t want to walk it, just for one house. This village is very random too and any new postman is sent out with an experienced one for the first few days to start getting the hang of it.. For example, Marsh Lane is in two separate locations with no indication which is which, and the village’s bypass is in between them. So is the whole of Station Road.
I discovered my blood group when blodd doning, and being the sort of person I am, wrote it down.
In fact I have it in the front of my diary (it’s a filofax diary, so this page lasts permanently) along with other useful medical information, the name of my doctor, NHS number etc – so if I were taken ill with my diary on me, everything the emergency services might need is right there to hand.
Sorry honey, I haven’t got a clue what my blood group is – I’ve never been interested enough to ask – just as long as it does what it supposed to – that’s good enough for me.
I used to live near the village of Findhorn, in NE Scotland, where the houses, spread fairly higgledy-piggledy over the village, are largely numbered according to the order in which they were built over the past c.300 years. Add to that the tendency for many of the (unrelated) inhabitants to be called McDonald or Fraser and the stress levels of pamphlet-deliverers rise to blood-boiling point. And I expect they all have the same blood group, too.
I’m not at all surprised, Dave.
And you’re excused I suppose, Wink, as when you had your blood transfusion you were too poorly to think about whether it was the right sort.
I have to admit, our house has a barely legible name, Christopher. But it’s one of only three in the road (the others that look as if they are in the road actually belong to Queensway, Dave, because that is the inexplicable way of things) and one of those is the Rectory, so we’re just not the Rectory or the bungalow..
I have to carry a card around with me with my blood groop on it and saying that I shouldn’t be given blood willy nilly.
I owe 5 pints (all lost in one go, it was all a bit messy!) but they don’t want it back thank you very much. I have funny anti-bodies. Something they had never seen before, apparently. I assume don’t want to see again and certainly don’t want to give them to anyone else.!!
Blimey, that must have been a frightful experience, though maybe you were in too bad a state to be aware until later. I’ll remember not to offer you a pint, however pale you might look.
no-one (except Dave) can ever find my house on the first attempt. It’s off the building line and although numbered the ones either side are not, also you can’t see it from the road – this confuses people, I can’t think why 🙂
Didn’t cause me any trouble though, did it?
Sorry to let the side down, Z, but I don’t know my blood group.
As for donating, I tried when we moved to France but they refused to take it because I’d lived in England in the ’80’s – Mad Cow Disease!!
My blood group is ‘V’ (for Vodka)…;-)
Hi Z, thanks for visiting me. I know my blood type and that of all my family. We needed to have that information.
Z you Cheekiest of Monkeys! Feinting to feel sorry for distributors (like me) then wickedly admitting a hugely confusing quirk. You’ll get your legs slapped.
And I can’t give blood, as you’re barred if you’ve had sex with another man.
Bet that shocked you.
Ziggi, Dave is an explorer and a pioneer. He never has any problems finding a friend’s house, especially if the kettle is boiling.
Sandy, you and Wink are letting down the female line. 4D, they’d surely not want your blood would they? The unfortunate recipient would wake up with an undeserved hangover.
Lakeviewer, thanks for calling back. I came to you via Belgian Waffle.
Hugely confusing quirk, Simon? That’s what the Sage calls me. Everyone knows where our house is anyway, it’s where I live.
I have no objection to sex with a man. But try slapping my legs and see where it gets you.
universal donor here O+
my house has a big #5 on it and on the post box in front and on the curb! we’re really big on visible addresses here! xoxoxo
50 donations!!! u do ur own gud stuff Z, so dont think abt not achieving that 50 mark.
We’ve got really patient postmen out here in the countryside, Savannah!
No, I only started because a blogfriend prompted me – I’d thought about it before but there were reasons not to, first because I was too thin then because, not at all thin, I was too stressed and busy – and I can’t do more than I am.
A monkey could find our home with his eyes closed.
Dear Author razorbladeoflife.blogspot.com !
You commit an error. Write to me in PM, we will talk.
Anon, I found this in spam mail, but I’ve given you the benefit of the doubt. I admit it, I make many errors. Not going to stop that any time soon though.