I'm all for donating blood and I appreciate those who do give blood as there may come a day when I’m in need of that blood but as for me I’m not able to give blood. The reason is simple, it’s psychosomatic.
When I was a sophomore in high school, there was a blood drive and in order to get out of Spanish class I volunteered to donate. This very nice lady with very long decorated fingernails hooked me up and without being indelicate, I started filling the bag.
My bag was about half way full when the needle clotted and the blood stopped flowing. The nice lady noticed and told me she was going to tap on the needle to see if she could get the blood to flow again. She tapped and the clot remained. So she told me she was going to rotate the needle a bit, a notion that made me nervous but what else was I going to do. She rotated the needle, and as I remember, the pain was excruciating.
As she turned away after rotating, the needle one of those long, decorated fingernails caught the needle and pulled it out sideways. The upshot was it cleared the clot. The downside was the rest of my donation ended up on the floor.
When we returned to Spanish my friends all had small armbands indicating that donated blood. I returned with an armband that was twice as big.