Jerry Zezima: 'Joking Is in My Blood'
Huffington Post - about 4 years
As a frequent blood donor and a proud member of the Gallon Club, which has nothing to do with my weekend beer consumption, I have often wondered if the people who get my blood suffer from terrible side effects like telling stupid jokes and growing a mustache. And if, especially where facial hair is concerned, any of them have been women.
I gained some insight when I found out that the blood I donated recently had gone to New York-Presbyterian Hospital's Weill Cornell Medical Center.
The journey began during a blood drive at work, where a phlebotomist named Susan looked over my paperwork and asked what type of blood I have.
"Since I'm a newspaper columnist," I told her, "I should have typo blood."
"Are you positive?" she said.
"Actually, I am," I replied. "A-positive, though I like to call it A-plus because it makes up for the fact that I never got one in school."
Susan took my temperature and my blood pressure.
"Do I have a pulse?" I asked.
"Yes," she re
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