Last night was my first day of Aikido practice. The practice lasted an hour and a half, and was one helluva lot more than I’d bargained for. We started out by stretching, some of which was of the sort that also develops strength and so can actually be pretty exhausting. We then did a lot of rolling back and forth, then somersaults back and forth. We then practiced falling backwards. It was actually quite fun, but it was a lot of work. Lots of falling down and then getting back up from the floor. Finally we practiced some steps, and then we put everything together into a series of movements with a partner, where one would grab the other and then the one who was grabbed would make the other one fall down. It was fun, but it was exhausting. I don’t think I’ve ever worked that hard at exercise. (Granted, I don’t like exercise.)

After the class, I went and showered off, then Hanso, Salve, and I met Johannes at Anarkali and we had a nice dinner together. There I complained a lot and drank a lot of water. Johannes and I walked home, and I could barely get up the stairs. I felt like I’d been run over by a truck–the muscles all along my back were just sore from being smashed with all the rolling. When I took off my clothes to take a shower, I saw that my back was covered with broken capillaries in the shape of the seams of my bra. Cute.

I talked to my mother-in-law after I got back and told her about my experience. I was reminded about one time when we’d talked about exercise and she’d talked about how she sometimes gets an endorphin rush from biking. I think I’ve gotten an endorphin rush once, the first time I attempted wheel pose in yoga class–I actually managed to do it! I don’t ever feel any kind of endorphin rush from anything else I do. I think my brain has a really high threshold for that kind of thing, probably the same kind of problem as my depression. Point being, I cannot rely on endorphins to get me through any of this.

Today the real pain has come. I can walk, albeit with some pain, but my thigh muscles are sore that getting up from and sitting down in chairs is something I’ve been avoiding, not even to mention the torture of going up and down the stairs, which I’ve had to do twice today (damned Red Cross!).

So, I’m supposed to go back tomorrow. I really do want to go back, but given the pain I’m in now, I’m wondering if I should. I wonder if I’ve taken on a bit more than I can handle. I wonder if I’ll be able to manage yoga at all on Thursday, and yoga is more important to me than Aikido. I wonder if this is just too intense for me given my fitness level. The problem is really just all the up-and-down, but I know that’s not going to get any better. I can see now that the aikido will definitely help with precisely the things I wanted help with–balance, coordination, and aerobic conditioning. But right now I’m just overwhelmed with how trashed I feel today. I don’t know if I’m up for this. Any suggestions or encouragement would be greatly appreciated.

OK, I’m a little irritated now. I just had an hour of my time wasted for no good reason.

A little background: every couple of years I read in the paper about how Oslo’s blood banks have a major shortage. Last year, when I read about the most recent shortage, I decided to sign up to donate blood. I’ve donated blood before and I’m practically an ideal blood donor–my blood type is O negative, so anyone and everyone can use my blood, plus I’m not some 100 pound weakling who faints when she gets tapped. I signed up to be a donor via the Red Cross’s web site. Months passed, and no-one contacted me. Finally, about a month ago, and a few months after I submitted the web form to be a donor, someone at the Red Cross contacted me. I had to make an appointment to come in and be screened, and appointment which would take about an hour, and at which I would not actually be giving blood. the appointment was set for about a month after the call.

So, today was the appointment. I go in and fill out the form. I’m not in any risk group, I’ve given blood before, no big deal. I get called into the room so a nurse can go over the form with me. Basically he’s just repeating all the questions on the form verbatim. She asks for clarification on a few of the questions, and guess what, I get ruled out as a blood donor. Why? Have I been sleeping with bisexual men? Shooting up? Perhaps my recent trip to Angola where I may have been bitten by a malaria-bearing mosquito? Nope, I’ve got my tongue pierced. And piercings in mucous membranes make a person more susceptible to infections.

OK, so I have no problem with a country being careful about its supply of donated blood. That’s not the source of my irritation here. I’m irritated because I just had an hour of my time wasted for no good reason. When I was leaving the donation center, I asked the nurse whether or not the fact that people with tongue piercings cannot donate blood in Norway is posted on the web site. She said that she didn’t think so, since only parts of the rules were posted there, and it would be just too much information to post all that stuff on the web. I suggested posting such information online so that neither the nurses’ nor potential donors’ time would be wasted like this, but she was quite dismissive. Her attitude was a typical Norwegian one that really makes me want to slap the shit out of so many people I deal with in this country.

I’m thinking about writing a letter to Norges Røde Kors suggesting that they post a little quiz on their web site, sort of a pre-screening thing. Really informal, something like “Could you be a blood donor?” These kinds of things don’t take much effort or time. Had I taken a quiz, it would have been immediately apparent that I shouldn’t bother signing up and further taxing the Red Cross’s bureaucrats. It’s just the inefficiency of the entire thing that gets on my nerves. Given the time it took them to get back to me to schedule the appointment, the time between my scheduling the appointment and the actual appointment, and the fact that the screening usually takes an hour, and only after all that can one finally donate blood (and god knows how long after the screening it would take to schedule an appointment to give blood)–given all that–I would assume that anything that screens out people unsuited to be donors before they enter the Red Cross’s bureaucracy would be helpful. I mean, no freaking wonder these people have regular blood shortages! I’d be willing to bet that those shortages aren’t due to a lack of donors, but rather a lack of infrastructure to process donors efficiently. Obviously there are plenty of donors, or I wouldn’t have had to wait so long to finally be screened.

This whole thing also kind of makes me nervous about receiving any donated blood. I mean, if the only reason they rejected me was because I admitted to having a tongue piercing, what happens when people lie about their risk factors? I’m sure people do that all the time, especially in the context of blood drives at companies and schools where people are strongly encouraged to donate. Are the tests they perform on donated blood really not capable of detecting any disease that a person with a tongue piercing but no other risk factors might harbor? (And yeah, I’m well aware of the window period for HIV infection, etc.) This makes me feel like the only thing standing between me and possible HIV infection via blood transfusion is the conscience of some asshole attorney who’s been vacationing in Southeast Asia and taking advantage of those sweet Thai boys down there.

This whole experience just gave me a lot to think about. Or perhaps I’m just bitter at being deemed too unclean to give the gift of my precious blood. Who knows.