If I'm the universal donor, then the universe is in trouble

I was sitting with my arm outstretched, purposely not looking at the needle which was drawing blood from the artery in the crook of my elbow. Since my childhood days, I’ve found a spot on the ceiling in whatever doctor’s office I found myself, and I have stared at that spot, daring myself to give in or fall apart. When the phlebotomist finished taking two small vials of blood, I admitted that I fe…