To commemorate World Blood Donor Day …

A woman walks into a hospital wheeling her husband who’s in a wheelbarrow. She stops at the front desk and says to the nurse, “Something is wrong with my husband. He was very difficult to wake up this morning, he barely touched his breakfast, and he hasn’t done anything all day. Can you find out what’s wrong?”

She and her husband are whisked into a room and a couple of burly orderlies lift her unresponsive husband onto the examination table. A doctor walks into the room and begins examining her husband. He puts on a stethoscope, then gets out a sphygmomanometer and measures his blood pressure, nodding grimly as he takes the measurement. Then he uses the stethoscope to listen carefully to the husband’s chest, then he gets out a tool and uses it to peer into the husband’s eyes.

Then he sighs, steps toward the woman and delivers his verdict. “Madam, sorry to say but your husband has passed. That will be fifty dollars, please.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes, he’s definitely gone. Fifty dollars, please.”

“But how can you be so sure? You haven’t run any tests or anything.”

The doctor sighs, goes to the back door of the room, and knocks on it twice. He opens the door, and a black Labrador retriever comes into the room and trots quickly up to the examination table. The dog walks around the table, sniffing the husband thoroughly. He walks around the table twice, sniffing as he goes, and licks the man on his cheek. Then he looks down at the floor, and gives a soft, plaintive woof.

The doctor knocks on the door again, three times this time, and opens it. An orange-and-white cat comes in, walks to the table, and with a graceful leap lands on the husband. The cat walks on the husband’s body, kneading and purring loudly. It walks up to the man’s chest and flicks its tongue out several times, lightly tasting the husband’s neck. Then it lets out a sad meow and shakes its head slowly before jumping down.

The doctor turns back to the woman. “Yes, he’s definitely passed. That will be $1,500, please.”

“$1,500?! You said it was fifty bucks!”

“Yes, but that was before the Lab report and the cat scan. Those can be really expensive.”

Doctor: Not much we can do. I think the patient is dying. What’s his blood type?

Nurse: B positive.

Doctor: I’m trying to be positive.

Before I became a dad, I was terrified I wouldn’t know how to be a good one. Oddly enough, it turns out, it’s in my blood. I come from a long line of fathers.

What do you call a glass of pig’s blood?

Swine.

My son was injected with poisoned blood from a person from Finland.

He said, “I am finnished.”

What do you call a crazy blood-sucking parasite?

A lunatick!

I went to the Red Cross to donate blood but they threw me out.

They said, “We don’t want your type here!”

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