I’ve saved three lives… what have YOU done today?

You may remember my sorry excuse at an attempt to giving blood earlier this year (i.e. I didn’t even try) but I think I made a passionate enough plea to others to donate that even I started to believe it again!  The post even made the “What We’re Reading” section of the Red Cross Chat site (complete with language warning… I’m such a rebel).  So now I was screwed… according to my stats, hundreds of people had read this post (or were searching for the funny weather cartoons which had gotten me the language warning in the first place) and they were going to hold me accountable.  I wasn’t going to be able to just say “I’ll just switch up my list again and pretend that giving blood wasn’t on it.”

 

This was the real deal.  I was going to have to give blood.

 

I made an appointment for a blood drive being held today, March 5th from 8am-1pm.  Clearly I’m not a morning person so 8 o’clock was out but they did have a convenient and sleep-in-on-a-Saturday conducive 10:45 slot so I signed myself up!  My very loving (but very squeamish) husband offered to drive me to and from (but certainly not go in and have to possibly see the needles ohmygod) and we got there right on time.  I signed in, read the little (big) disclaimer booklet and I was given a red name sticker (to indicate I’m not a newbie) and my number – #35.  I figured I was good to go until I realized that the next number they called was #27.  Oh.No.  I was going to have to sit there a while – probably for at least an hour – while my blood started escaping from my veins, looking for anywhere to go so it didn’t get plucked from it’s homey environment, leaving me a little light-headed and anxious.  So I took a few breaths, continued to drink from my Nalgene (water… although Jack Daniels, would have certainly helped my mood a little), relaxed and started to play “Words With Friends” on my iPhone (thank you for distracting me friends).

 

This was kind of the panic I was starting to feel.

 

Then the water kicked in… after my third trip to the restroom, my number was called and I was up.  This was it… I could either beeline it for the exit or suck it up and do what I came to do.  So I followed the nurse into the little cubicle where she asked me a zillion questions about my travel, sex life and health (and had them memorized to boot!) pricked my finger, had me sign a waiver and lead me to my bed (although my idea of a bed is a little fluffier and has a better pillow).

 

If you get squeamish (like my husband) this is where you might want to jump ahead.

 

Now, conveniently, I had dinner with a friend of mine who used to teach the Bradley Method of childbirth and was explaining to me all the reasoning behind it (note: we were not having this conversation for any particular reason… I would not be able to donate blood if I was pregnant; please don’t jump to conclusions… mom) and I was fascinated with the aspect that if you truly let go and understand the reasons why everything is painful, what’s exactly happening in your body, etc., you’ll be able to work through it a little easier (I’m quite aware that I have never given birth and this could all be a crapshoot for me when that time comes).  Bradley Blood Donor Method was in use.  The nurse I had was absolutely lovely.  She played around with my veins, realized that I wasn’t lying when I said they were small and went for the gusto.  And missed.  But rather than panic, she subtly moved the needle a bit and then grabbed a pressure cuff and squeezed until my tiny veins decided they would cooperate and voi la!  She was in! And all the while, I was imagining the needle going into my arm, settling into a spot where blood would flow, the blood filling up my little bag and that bag being used to save three lives.  Holy crap.  The Bradley thing was working.  I was calm, relaxed and, as of yet, not panicking.  After setting my bag all up, asking how I was feeling and nicely taking a quick photo for me, she was on her way to the next donor and I was left to squeeze my little red ball and drain my pint.

On the table, in all my un-showered/sweat-panted glory.

 

I tried not to notice the team supervisor eying my bag with a concerned look.  Instead, I concentrated on the little ball and the fact that I was, by far, one of the youngest donors in the place and if the gentleman who told me he was in his 80′s while we were waiting was now jumping off the table after filling his baggie in no time flat, I could too.  After a while, the supervisor came over to check it out and, just as I suspected, he told me that I was slowing on the amount of blood I was draining.  Again, surprise surprise.  But instead of the usual bustle and gazillion questions of whether or not I REALLY wanted to get the thing flowing again (the answer is always yes), he gently knelt down, played around with the equipment and gave a simple tug on my arm under the needle and held it there.  I’m not sure if it was his calming presence or whatever magic he was working to get the needle in the right place again without actually moving it, but the blood started to flow and before I knew it, he grabbed the scale, measured the pint and said I was finished!  I asked him how much a pint of blood weighs and he said about a pound (although they talk in grams).  Sweet… working on #15 at the same time as #5!  As he was finishing up, my mom texted me asking how long it took so I relayed the question to him.  18 minutes. Ok, how long is “normal?”  8-12 minutes.  Oops.  And apparently, if you go over 20, they can’t really use it because it starts to clot.  Go figure.  I’m always one to push a deadline!

 

If you stopped reading because you’re a big baby you don’t like needle talk, you can start again here.

 

I slowly sat up and headed to the snack table where several of us sat, munching on sugary goodness, drinking grape juice and water and sharing stories about why we donate.  I shared my 30 Before 30 adventure and why I was doing this today and one of the volunteers gently leaned over to me, and he so genuinely and heartfelt, said, “I received 6 units of blood during an emergency surgery five years ago… people like you saved my life.  Thank you.”  And it was all I could do to not break into tears over my bag of Oreos (and I may or may not be letting those tears flow right now).

 

Holy crap.  You see the signs, the advertisements, the PSAs begging for new donors because there’s a shortage but it’s a WHOLE other ballgame when someone is sitting there, looking you in the eyes and thanking you for saving their life.  Talk about an amazing moment, one I will hold on to the next time I go and donate… because yes, there WILL be a next time.

 

This was absolutely one of the best donation experiences I have had and I am SO GLAD that I felt the fear and did it anyway.  This is truly one of those experience that is so tangible, so “easy” to do (for all intents and purposes) that it’s really hard to justify NOT doing it again (or for a first time).

 

See???  I don’t look miserable nor do I look particularly pale!

 

Like I said in my original post, if you’re interested in donating blood visit http://www.redcrossblood.org/home2 to find a local Blood Drive.  Just think, you’re bound to have a better experience than I usually do and if I can do it, YOU can do it too.

Let’s make this OUR year.

And I promise, even if you’re lightheaded and a little queezy, the sheer joy of helping others will make you feel like you’re on top of the world.

 

5. Give blood again even though it’s difficult for me

 

Now I’m off to drain another kind of pint (after consuming a ton of water) with some of the most wonderful women in my life.

 

“You give but little when you give of your possessions.  It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.” ~Kahlil Gibran