When my parents informed me that my blood type was A+, I felt a strange sense of pride.
If A+ was the top grade in school, then surely A+ was also the most excellent of blood types – a biological mark of distinction.
It didn't take long for me to recognize just how silly that feeling was and tamp it down. But I didn't learn much more about what it really meant to have type A+ blood.
By the time I was an adult, all I really knew was that if I should end up in a hospital in need of blood, the doctors there would need to make sure they transfused me with a suitable type.