I gave blood recently. I have been donating fairly regularly since my dad was in a car accident a few years ago and needed blood. I had tried to give once before during a blood drive for a friend with leukemia. My only child at the time was 2 and was running all over the convention center where the blood drive was held. And I was chasing him. When they called my name my pulse rate was high. They wouldn't accept my reason for it and I was rejected from the pool of donors. I'm ashamed to say I didn't go back to donate again until dad's accident. It's sad that the reason that drove me there was tragedy both times. But I go quite often now. Not as often as I can, but almost.
It seems that about a quarter of my donations involve some drama. Not real drama drama, but enough drama to remember the experience. One time they found a good vein and blood flowed well, until it didn't. It just stopped and no matter how much they fiddled with the needle, I squeezed the ball, and the cuff was tightened, we couldn't get it to fill a whole bag. The bag had to be thrown away because it wasn't filled (and it's got a pre-measured amount of some chemical that preserves it). But I had given enough that I couldn't come back and really donate again for another 6 weeks. Grrrr. A few times they have had trouble finding a vein and several people come to help move the needle around. That is what happened this time. I got a new girl. Which is normally just fine with me. I don't mind letting EMT's practice their IV's on me and I didn't really mind having a new girl draw my blood. She came at me with the needle with a running start! And missed. She was so disappointed that she didn't get the vein right off. She tried and tried to move the needle just right and all it did was hurt! Finally she asked for help and that person was able to just slightly move it and all was working. It may have been the fastest I'd filled a bag since I started giving blood. Then she jerked the needle from my arm (not a nice draw it out and put the cotton on it, a pull-it-out-as-quickly-as-possible-and-hope-it-doesn't-hurt. It did.), and she was surprised to see how much the hole could bleed. We put the cotton on it and raised my arm while she did her QC and paperwork. She came back with a bandaid and I think she almost passed out when the hole oozed still. It was like she had never seen someone actively bleeding, which I guess, if she does her job right she shouldn't really see much of. I sat longer with my arm in the air. Finally we were able to get a bandaid on it and got up to get my juice. I hope that she was just new and nervous and that she recovers quickly. I have. My arms isn't bruised at all after all of that, and I weighed one pound less on my next weigh in. A pint is a pound after all.
Go save a life! Give blood! It's good for you and it's good for others.
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