Get handed the squeeze ball used to help pump out blood during a donation.
See that it is a replica of a heart.
(Mine didn't burst into flame, but I'm fine with that.)
The donation went fine. I was able to joke with the people who assisted me; I try to be jovial. I've long said that my reaction to having blood drawn for a donation is much like being drunk; my emotions get heightened. I admitted to the guy helping me finish this donation how once I'd gotten really sad while reading the sad climax of a novel while donating, even though I was re-reading the book and knew the ending. I'd rather be jovial while getting a needle in and out.
So that was one good deed for the day. Another potential good deed: I signed up while at the Red Cross donation center to, possibly, join the blood marrow donor database. We'll see what the swabs from the inside of my mouth say...
Also, this donation day was lavish, for the Independence Day holiday. I got an apple pie!