Bloody Hell

I could have gone for my blood test results last night between 4 and 8pm, but waited for tonight so Laszlo could go with me. I needed someone to hold my hand, but more importantly, I did not want to get a sheet with results that I didn’t understand, then have to wait to find someone to interpret them.

The sheet was set on the counter and I had to sign for it. For one A4 sheet of paper, there was too much white space and not enough type. For what was on this sheet, all they needed was the prick of the finger blood. What did they do with the seven tubes they took, sell it to some African country?

As I am staring at the paper, all I could see was “positv”. My mind went reeling; I was waiting for Laszlo to give me sad looks, perhaps shed a tear and say he had something to tell me. He continues to talk to the woman, so my tension is building. Passing out would pass the time faster. When he brought me to, he could tell me the bad news and I could pass out again for real.

He finally turns to me and says “The woman said your blood type is A Positive, so amongst Hungarians you are a commoner. Many of them have A Positive blood”. In my harried state, I missed the A in front of the positive; really, I thought they forget to finish the senentence. He is A positive person. Gulp!

It took me to this stage of my life to find out my blood type. A Positve. Somehow if fits my character, since I have been accused a million times of being Type A compulsive. Well, it is just in my blood, what can I say?