Every three months, like clockwork. Nobody at home knows.
It's my mom, mostly. She's genuinely terrified of needles — the kind of fear where she looks away during her own blood tests — and if she found out her kid voluntarily gets stuck with one every few months, she'd spiral. So I just don't tell her.
The one giveaway is the donor card. I keep it in my wallet instead of a drawer at home, because a drawer gets opened, tidied, snooped through. A wallet stays with me. So the one piece of evidence never sits under the same roof as her.
Weird thing to keep secret, a good deed. But some kindnesses are easier to do quietly than to explain.