I've just remembered that it's a week ago since I had a sad day.
I'd spent a long time preparing and tatting bookmarks for that day. They were for gifts.
What was the occasion? My 75th. NO, not birthday - 75th blood donation. For years and years the same nurses have been in the church hall where it 'happens' and they always love the wee butterflies (the 5 ring SCMR ones) I give them on each visit. One year (think it might've been my 50th donation) I gave them tatted hearts.
So this was a big occasion, my 75th, and I'd decided it would be my last time so thus a decent gift was needed and made. That was the reason I designed these butterflies.
So, off I trotted to the donation centre - a brisk ten minute walk away. Shortly after my arrival and bang on my appointment time I was called for my 'interview' and soon after we'd sat down the lady suddenly beetled off (she'd spotted the number 74 at the top of my sheet). Back she came with disappointment number one.
"We haven't got any certificates with us today so you'll have to wait til next time." You get a badge when you've given 10, 25, 50 and 75 donations and also a certificate at 75. I was SO sad and I explained that this was to be my last visit so she said she'd arrange for one to be sent to me in the post.
Then we went onto the finger prick test. I failed - disappointment number 2!!!! The blood wouldn't sink in the test jar. So, onto a phial full to put in the machine. I waited, waited, waited and eventually even the machine rejected me. .25 down. A measly .25 down. It's been a LOT worse than that in the past!!
So I went round and gave away my butterflies and said goodbye to them all (well, I may have to go back next time to get a frigging certificate if it doesn't come in the post).
I've been at sessions only once where somebody got a 75 award and they got a CLAP from everybody (at least 20 people excluding staff). I wasn't even offered a cup of tea and a biscuit for mine!!!! I sulked out of the place and went for a walk instead.
The third and FINAL insult is that the next day my arm was bruised. BRUISED after a measly, tiddly, tiny bit of blood taken for their wretched machine!!!!! The first time I've EVER been bruised in 75 arms full. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
Anyway, to conclude this sad story - I sulked about it for almost a whole hour and then turned it into a joke against myself. Well, what else do you do when life socks you one, eh?