Bikes, Blood, and Braised Beancurd
Since Mike’s started using a bike on his commute to work, I thought it’d be nice if he had a smooth ride (and he was talking about a road bike anyway). So I resolved to finish working on that old 10-speed road-bike that’s been sitting against our patio wall. In the middle of re-greasing the rear hub assembly, Mike shouts over to me asking if I’d like to go donate blood with him. I figure sure, why not? I’ve got enough time before my class that I can finish working on the bike when we get home.
So we swing over to the blood bank. The usual questions on my military service since 1977 (from a nice lady who was a marathon cyclist) and they had me up on the chair waiting. I’m just hanging out so look over at Mike in the next chair grimacing. Turns the lady drawing from him put the needle in too deep, skewered the vein, and found muscle (ouch!). My lady, on the other hand, was the picture of deftness. A nurse for seven years, she knew what she was doing ^_^ . Didn’t feel a thing when she pulled the needle out. Then the usual instructions on no exercise or heavy lifting for 24hrs, drink plenty of fluids…blah blah blah.
Get home, finish working on my bike, and cycle over to class only marginally late. Hehe…wasn’t until I was half way to class I realized I was drinking coffee before I left (something that dehydrates was probably not the fluid they were talking about). Cycle back home, relax for a while, then start one dinner for myself, Mike, and Mom (flipping around an iron pan filled with potatoes, onions, and sauce for 30 min can’t possibly be heavy lifting, right?). And after diner a nice bike ride around SCU with Lisa (hardly exercise, I promise ^_^ ).





