By Ethan Crawley
November 17, 2005
When I woke up I knew something was wrong. I could feel it my body, like worm moving its way through my system. I took a shower and moved on with my day as usual. I went to my first class of the day math class, and then my anthropology class. In my anthropology we discussed the tribes of Africa, mostly the Nuer people. I watched murder move through that country like no other splitting families apart. It was an amazing thing to see these people try to get out of a war zone.
Soon after that class I decided to leave campus, and before I got to the bus stop I saw the Red Cross. Donations were being accepted for the blood drive. I decided I would do my part and donate my life to some one else. After I filled out the questionnaire about sex and drugs, and so on, I got my first donation done. I didn’t think anything of it. As I left I felt like something had just drained my life support out. I felt empty. It was like death had caught me at last, even for the short moment. Maybe the cookie wasn’t going to cut it, so I had a meal after ward.
Several days later after writing a paper on over population on the world, and how the world was never going to reach over population because of natural disasters. I got a phone call from the Red Cross.
“May I speak to Ethan Crawley” a young lady sincerely asked.
“This is he, how may I help you?”
“Yes you donated blood Thursday afternoon and we have some problems with your test result from the sample that you gave us.”
“What is the problem, I haven’t smoked weed in four months, it should be clean. What else could be wrong with it?”
“Well sir we would like for you to come in and discuss your these results with you.”
“Oh no, would you please tell me now.”
“Okay very well, I’m not suppose to do this, but if you insist Mr. Crawley. Your test results came out positive for HIV.”
Comments pretaining to my work please email me firstname.lastname@example.org.
-ethan crawley 2005