Whenever I hear someone say they gave blood, usually the person(s) hearing this will fly up their own arse explaining why they themselves can’t do the same. This is kind of annoying because the fact is, most who don’t donate could (only 3 out of every 100 Americans do).
So just to be clear, the correct response when you hear someone has given blood? “Oh wonderful for you! Good job.” Something along those lines. Keep your non-donation explanation (justified or no) to yourself.
So me, I’m one of those Special Snowflakes who can admit straight-out the reason I haven’t given blood often is: I don’t like it. Despite the fact I don’t like it, and I never have, I used to give about once a year. One time I was rejected – for being pregnant, which seems very conservative and silly, because I was as healthy and hale a motherfucking draft horse – so I took this opportunity to not give for years.
The truth is, giving blood terrifies me. It doesn’t hurt, not really – I mean even when the proverbial screw-up is made and they “dig around” in my arm trying to get purchase (yes, I know some of my readers are cringing at the thought) – it doesn’t really hurt all that much (Hello! I’ve had two babies and kidney stones. Nothing “hurts” anymore compared to that junk). But there’s something… something unsavory. I get this way to an almost identical degree about any kind of needle puncture, including my vitamin shots at my ND. My breath catches, I have to focus on calm, my head swims ever-so-slightly, and I question Why on earth am I allowing this to happen? A piddling response, I know, but a real one. After all, our skin is designed to keep breaches out. Maybe my brain and gut know this, and agree with the basic premise.
Nevertheless today when I saw the bloodmobile here in HQX I knew I should suck it up and donate. It wouldn’t kill me. It would help someone else (I mean really help). I wasn’t even going to faint or have anything silly happen. I’d just be very upset for a few minutes. That’s it. So after Homeschool Swimming my mom picked up Nels for a date. Sophie and I got our lunch and travelled back to the bloodmobile. My daughter elected to stay and keep me company (winning out over video games in the YMCA Game Room – impressive). Once she understood the ramifications of giving blood she was very proud of me*, which made me proud of her.
I was the last appointment of their day. The employee (phlebotomist?) who assisted me was having a short-timer afternoon. She moved very quickly and brusquely and I was a bit worried she wasn’t going to be detail-oriented and I’d end up bleeding out like a stuck pig or some other humiliating thing. Of course she did wonderfully and was very kind once I was flowing. She kept asking, “Are you feeling OK?” because I kind of didn’t seem so; she praised me for donating despite discomfort. We also joked about the “sciencey” white robes they wear, which of course would show a single drop of blood far too easily.
I got through it just fine (after eight-plus years of non-donation) and now I feel good about myself and ready to resume my regular donor status.
And that five PM clove cigarette gave me that much more of a buzz.
* How awesome is Sophie’s social conscience? Pretty awesome. Last night at dinner I was telling my husband about an article I’d read online regarding public “table manners” for children and babies, discussing the oft-given frowny-face and disparaging of mothers who breastfeed anywhere public. Sophie, listening in, gave a short laugh. “Breastfeeding at the table? That’s actually quite appropriate,” she said calmly in her duck-voice. Sophie on social justice, FTW.
🙂 I am “special” and have been rejected several times for not enough iron- I also bled out once from an inaccurate poke which was followed by a ridiculous amount of effort from the blood sticker guy to get my blood to fill up the bag, when it was actually filling up below my skin instead. Then they rejected me on spec becuz I was pregnant and/or nursing. Luckily my better half has given gallons. I have yet to get back on the wagon, but fortunately it is a wagon worth climbing on. Way2go Kelly!
Hey, did you say “clove cigarette”! I love those damn things but can’t find them anymore. They told me at the cig store they were now banned or something? No fair! LOL!
Haha! After I read that first sentence, I was all, “Hey! You don’t KNOW why I can’t give blood! That’s not fair to say!” And then well, I calmed down and haha! I TOTALLY do that. So good for you! Yeah, you! You shoulda had a beer too.
Thanks for linking to that article referencing breastfeeding at the table. I breastfed my baby at two or three restaurants over the weekend and vaguely wondered what the people around me thought.
@K8
Exactly.
& I did have a beer. Giving blood also makes me feel like I’m “cleaning out” my system (to, um, supplement with beer and cigs? Oops!). I’m like a medieval witch doctor who believes in leeches and cupping and stuff.
@Luckychrm
Definitely go for it & try again, as most ppl who are rejected are in temporary circumstances (like low iron or pregnancy – breastfeeding did not come up yesterday). There’s another drive here on July 6. Also there are other ways to help.
@Heather
Clove cigs are outlawed but there is some weird “These are cigars” loophole. Hey that reminds me, email me your address!
@Christephi
I don’t know what every person thought. Here’s two people who think you were AWESOME: me, and your baby.
i don’t weigh enough… not by a long shot. i am in the bone marrow donor registry. they won’t take a pint of blood because i am too little, but they are perfectly willing to drill into my hip for bone marrow. go figure. (have not donated marrow yet. was called once because i was a partial match, but a better match was found)
hubski use to donate every 6 weeks. he’s O neg, so they loved him. he hasn’t been able to donate since he was diagnosed with melanoma 6 years ago. he can’t manage to stay cancer free for more than a year.
I need to find a place to donate again, since I’m O- and they love me! Funnily enough, Scott is also O- and a health care provider but can’t (because he’s been to Iraq and had lovely stuff like anthrax vaccines).
Over the labor day weekend last year I was in an IHOP and nursed Tallon. There was a couple across from us that kept giving me the stinkeye and left in a hurry when the waitress couldn’t seat them elsewhere. Another couple came in and was taken to that booth but asked to sit elsewhere and said they’d wait for another table. Finally an older couple came in and sat there and the woman leaned across and said that she was glad to see me nursing my baby. She was at least 65 and the other couples were both younger. When people give me the look I just stare at them and smile.
I need to find a place to donate again, since I’m O- and they love me! Funnily enough, Scott is also O- and a health care provider but can’t (because he’s been to Iraq and had lovely stuff like anthrax vaccines).
Over the labor day weekend last year I was in an IHOP and nursed Tallon. There was a couple across from us that kept giving me the stinkeye and left in a hurry when the waitress couldn’t seat them elsewhere. Another couple came in and was taken to that booth but asked to sit elsewhere and said they’d wait for another table. Finally an older couple came in and sat there and the woman leaned across and said that she was glad to see me nursing my baby. She was at least 65 and the other couples were both younger. When people give me the look I just stare at them and smile.
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