I awoke with a start had I heard the rather distinctive voice of our esteemed MS, Dr Rory, talking to me in a dream, offering guidance and wisdom, or was that him banging against my window? The banging resumed and my answer was provided

Niall!

Rory

You awake?

Uh- huh (Im not very talkative in the morning)

We need your blood

You what?

Youre O+ we need your blood to transfuse into a kid

Right.be there in a minute

Whereupon, I leapt out of bed (an unusual occurrence), scurried to the shower, pulled on some clothes, ate a biscuit (I remember feeling decidedly unwell last time I donated blood on an empty stomach) and ran across to the lab, feeling in some way positive and not a little bit selfless, that my donation could save a childs life.

I reached the lab, took a seat in the blood drawing chair, and looked up at the lab technician with a rather large needle and an intimidatingly big blood bag for me to fill.

Do your worst I said to the bemused looking lab tech.

He stopped. Smiled. And pointed to the piece of paper sitting beside me on the chair.

It read.

April Fool.

I salute thee. Our esteemed MS.