When she pointed out yesterday that I'd last donated blood platelets (or donated blood at all) in March 2016, I said "And I don't have any good reason I've waited that long to donate." She was understanding, but still: I felt I should say it.
It's true. I have no reason that I waited a year and a half to do this again. A symptom of me being wrapped up in myself. Where I'd, at best, tell myself I'll do that later. Later kept happening, and no donation.
A message I got Wednesday from Red Cross Cascades prompted me to finally call back Thursday and schedule a platelet donation for Friday. When I'd last thought about donating again, sometime in August, I told myself Do it in August at least. I missed that by a week. OK, at least I donated again when it's, technically, summer...
Platelet donation takes some time management: the process from tube insertion to tube removal takes two hours, so you can watch a movie or TV while the machine sucks platelets out of your whole blood and puts the blood back into you. But it's really not that big a deal; and I have almost the ideal blood for platelets donation. They like me showing up. I can make it a habit again.
Since I like to watch relatively light films when I donate, I brought a library DVD of 1991's Soapdish, a comedy about a soap opera. The film's still really funny (it has one of the same writers as Blazing Saddles, Fletch and Honeymoon in Vegas), and it hit the spot as I let the machine do its thing.
Next time I donate — maybe platelets, which I can do fairly soon, maybe whole blood, which is quicker (minutes instead of hours) but which I also haven't done in a longer while — will be much sooner.