I headed over to the Red Cross donor center this evening to give blood. I’ve never done it before, and wasn’t quite sure what to expect, other than leaving with a pint or so less of my ever-so-vital, lifegiving, red fluid.
I began by filling out a lengthly survey asking various personal questions like if I had done drugs, had sex for money, had anal sex within the last 7 years, lived in Africa, and so on. (Which of course I answered “yes” to). Then after a period of waiting, I got in the chair. As soon as I sat down, I saw Jenn next to me getting poked with the needle and quickly after, streams of blood flowing into a clear plastic package. I began to get a little nervous.
One of the biggest mistakes I made was to watch them poke the needle in, which was a bit larger than I was used to. It felt quite odd going in, but not especially painful. As the blood began to run from my body, I was feeling fine. But as more and more blood made the trip from my vains to the bag, I was feeling a bit lightheaded and warm. My hand, trying to maintain grasp on a foam ball, was starting to become numb and the rest of my arm was quickly following.
Apparently, I looked pale, because the nurse asked me if I was alright. “Do you feel like your about to pass out?” She asked. “I don’t know, I’ve never passed out before,” I replied. She took that as a yes, and after I said it I felt more and more like I might want to. She layed me down, and put two cold towels on more forehead and neck, which felt great.
Meanwhile, I was still continuing. I started seeing things a little blurry, and heard the nurses talking about how I was almost done. One of them came up and asked me if I was feeling okay, and if I wanted to switch to the other arm for the “other three vials”. My thoughts at this time were mostly “Heck no, just do it in the arm you already poked and get it over with”. So she did, and I was done.
I laid in the chair for about 30-45 minutes, then when I felt strong enough to get up, I sat up and walked over to the “canteen area” and got a piece of apple pie and 7-Up. I was beginning to feel a little more normal, and after about 10 minutes, we left.
I’m not too sure if I’d give blood again, but according to studies, every time you donate blood, you save three lives. So think of it this way, every time you don’t give blood, you kill three people. That’s a pretty strong statement. If I do decide do give again, I will definately eat something before hand to avoid my biggest mistake: not eating all day before I gave.
On the positive side (or negative—hah!), I’ll soon get to find out what my blood type is!
