Something I've Never Done Before

As the title of this post states, I did something today I’ve never done before—I donated blood.  I’m not mentioning this in order to be given pats on the back (or to seem as though I’m doing it to myself), but if this blog is to serve as a type of journal, I want the things I write about to not just cover the regular aspects of my life, but to capture those moments when my experiences step outside of what is “the norm” for me.  This experience definitely qualifies. ☺

The blood drive was sponsored by my work.  Honestly, I’m not sure why I decided to participate this time when I have not done so during other opportunities.   All I can say is that I felt like I should—I had an impression and it was then up to me to respond to it or let it pass me by.  Blood and I aren’t friends.  Yes, I know that as a mortal being I need blood to live, but what I mean is that my reaction to seeing blood on the outside of me instead of inside of me—where it’s supposed to be—would not make me an immediate candidate for a job as a doctor. ☺   I don’t even know what my blood type is!  I remember studying a section on blood typing when I took biology in high school.  Mr. Forrest had chemicals that were supposed to help us know what blood type we had, but I don’t remember the results.

There was a point today when I almost lost my nerve.  Besides the idea of seeing blood on the outside of me, needles and I have never been friends either.  Furthermore, the  thought of having my blood drained from my body took me back to the summer when I was seven or eight and stepped on a piece of glass when going outside to move a water hose (that’s an interesting story in and of itself, maybe I’ll tell it one day).  One of the powerful memories of that experience was hobbling back along to the sidewalk toward the house and looking behind me to see the trail of blood splotches.  When I saw that, my seven-year-old brain was convinced that all my life’s blood was draining out of my foot.

Those types of memories aren’t easy to dismiss.  But I screwed up my courage and asked the co-worker who was one of the coordinators of the blood drive if I could participate.  I told her this would be the first time I’d ever donated and she said she would hold my hand if I needed her to.  That wasn’t necessary, but I wanted to know what I needed to do.  She told me there were plenty of spots open in the afternoon and to go ahead and eat lunch before going to the blood drive bus.

As I approached the front door of the bus a little later, I was met by a lady from the Red Cross who had me look over some pamphlets to help me understand the process.  I made sure to mention my first time status and was assured by one of the nurses who was also standing outside at the time that they would take good care of me.  There were a lot of questions to answer prior to actually giving blood.  I understand it is important that the blood supply be kept as safe as possible, but some of those questions were pretty personal.  Thankfully, I was able to answer “no” to all the questions needing that answer, and “yes” to all the questions needing that answer.

With all the preliminaries accomplished, it was time to climb up onto a bed (such as they were—I had to bend my knees in order to lay my back flat since none of them were long enough for me) and let the nurse prep my arm.  She shellacked my inner elbow with iodine.  As soon as the iodine went on my arm, the skin of that area became cold.  Then there was the inevitable “little pinch.”  I guess medical people use this phrase as a way to avoid telling their patient that they’re about to get jabbed with a needle.  I stared resolutely at the ceiling throughout this process—I had absolutely no desire to look.  As my blood began to flow through the tube and into the bag hooked up next to the bed, I had this fascinating and creepy cold and warm sensation on the skin of my inner elbow.  The nurse also gave me something to squeeze every 10 seconds.

Since my left arm was being employed, I had no way to look at my watch or have any sense of how long this process took.  When the required amount was given, I was told to lie still for a few minutes.  My first try at sitting up didn’t last long—after a minute or two, I felt woozy again and needed to lie back down for about 10 more minutes.  The nurse told me this was normal since my body was recovering from the sudden loss of blood.  My second try at sitting up was more successful.  I was given another water bottle and some cookies and Cheez-Its to eat.  After about 10 more minutes, I finally felt good enough to return to my desk.  Overall, it felt good to participate.  Maybe the reason I felt prompted to overcome my fears and do this was because someone out there needed my specific blood type, or maybe I needed to do this to overcome the fear—I don’t know.  I’m glad I followed through, whatever the reason.  The lady who helped sign me up in the beginning was still outside, talking to the co-worker coordinator when I exited the bus.  She told me I had saved three lives by donating.  Maybe they say that to everyone, but the comment made the anxiety and wooziness worth it.  Would I do it again?  Not sure.  If anything, I have learned that the process isn’t as bad as I may have envisioned.  Maybe I will do it again next time. ☺