Letter to Sorority Girls on Blood Drives

Dear Girls of Greek,
I appreciate your actions of doing good in the world, and I like the idea that you people sponsor (or at least encourage) the Blood Drive at WKU. I'm glad you spread the word throughout campus for people to take action and share a part of themselves to improve the lives of others.
Okay, did you get that part? That was the "thank you" part. The "I respect you sans judgment" part.
However, for the second year in a row, I have quietly waited in line, filing through the make-shift cardboard cubicles and into the small booths of blood-giving. For the second year, I have been among dozens of girls wearing hoodies and t-shirts of colorful Greek letters. Girls who lay in their chairs with elevated legs as their sorority sisters hold hands and stick straws in the mouths of the sickly. These sickly sorority girls close their eyes and exhale with dramatic pain as the suck the Sprite from the wavering straw. Nurses tend to the sickly in quick care, assuring that the nausea will pass, the fullness in the ears will lessen, the heat will cool, the coolness will heat.
I also understand that sometimes, giving blood can cause such side-effects. I have not been one to feel faint-ish, mainly because both times I have eaten properly and fueled myself with juice.
This year, a girl in front of me was playing the typical sorority girl who undergoes such deep pain, "My arm is falling off," she would say, "Oh my God I'm so hot," "Ugh, I feel nauseous." "Oh no, I think I may pass out." "Ohhhhhhh, my stomach." "Ohhhhhhh, my arm hurts. My arm is falling off. Ouch. My arm hurts. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"
I couldn't help but stare. I started pumping my little ball to circulate the blood, the nurse came to me several times to check on me, and of course I said I was fine. I was fine. No big deal. I don't want to portray myself as the big hero, but clearly I felt mentally Schwarzeneggerian compared to the groans and cries of the sorority-girl-filled chairs around me.
As the nurse de-needled me, she said, "Okay, just relax now."
I said, "Okay, I can do that," and she said, "Oh, that's good. All day these sorority girls have been crying like no other." She paused. "Wait, are you in a sorority?"
"No, I said." She smiled at me as a man replaced her to patch up my tiny hole.

So here is my proposal:
I understand that shit happens during these things. Some bizarre cases happen, too, I understand. But don't dramatize this stuff. Save the nurses and volunteers the trouble--alleviate their day a little by staying as calm and un-attention-seeking as possible. After all, no one ultimately cares how many "points" you rack up or whatever. This blood goes to people who badly need it, it doesn't go to your sorority houses or social events. When you cry and make a dramatic scene, you focus the attention on yourself rather than the people you're supposed to be helping. Maybe you should include a letter to attach to your blood bag that says,
"Dear Blood Receiver,
I hope you like the blood, because I was in the donor center for two hours under painful nausea and severe cold sweats. I almost passed out to give you this blood. But my sorority got the most points, so it's not so bad."
Sorry for the slight bitterness, but if you want to be a humanitarian, take away the selfish bile of fake servitude. Divert the attention away from yourselves and use it for good in the world.

Also, if anyone in a sorority reads this, you're probably pissed at me right now. I know you people endure a lot of stereotypes, so sorry to fuel the fire, but two years in a row... yikes. Maybe that problem should be addressed. Thanks.