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I think I’m offically becoming a Hanson.

Today at the high school, I gave blood for my fourteenth time, bringing my total donations up to 1.74 gallons (Ha! Take that milk jug!).  To donate, they have you answer a round of questions: Have to been to Africa?  Have you ever had relations for money? Are you pregnant?  The usual sort of stuff.

After that, they do a quick little review of your answers with a nurse, test the iron conent of your blood (Whoo, no anemic!) and take your blood pressure.  Of course, during all of this there is small talk between me and the nurse, which is probably because I’m one of the few staff members who donates and so one of the few non-high schooler they see during the day.  I’m not sure how it came up, but she said her kids went to Elmira for school, so I threw out the question if she knew one of Jess’s relatives that live in Elmira.  As it turns out, she did, which isn’t entirely surprising as they’re fairly well-known through their boat manufacturing business.

What was unusual was that not only did she know them, she was actually related to them and so in turn, I was related by marriage to her.  Who would have thought that the person who pricked my finger and tested my blood would end up being related to me by the end of our five minute interaction.  I’m sure that would say that this is a regular (if not daily) occurance for her, running into a Hanson or a Hanson off-shoot seems to be a biquarterly activity for her.

This is still a new experience for me, coming from a family where I can count my family and extended family on my fingers and toes while keeping at least one shoe on, many maybe half a mitten.