I'm a Hero

So says the t-shirt I was given for donating blood yesterday.

Let me preface this by saying that I will probably give blood again some time in the future. Yes, it sucks, but it's worth it. I don't want to discourage anyone. Having said that...

I was on my way to the rec center, when in the parking lot I saw the bloodmobile. I didn't really feel like working out that morning. So, I figured that donating blood would be a way for me to not work out AND not feel guilty about not working out. Also, I've always wanted to give blood. That is, I've always wanted the to have to guts to give blood. It is a good cause. In the past I've excused myself because I was convinced that I would pass out due to low blood pressure. Recently, anxiety has cured any problem I previously had with low blood pressure. That excuse is out.

I called the Red Cross to make an appointment this spring, but chickened out. Having a specific time slot would only make me dread it all the more. If I was going to donate blood, it would have to be spontaneous.

When I stepped into the traveling bloodmobile, the first thing I noticed was the freezing cold. All of the workers were wearing long-sleeved lab coats. I immediately wanted to bolt. "No. You can do this," said the little voice inside my head. After answering a battery of personal medical questions, I was escorted into a tiny room to have my hemoglobin tested. A part of me was hoping that this would be my out. My blood failed the first test, so another more sensitive test was performed. Darn. My blood was just barely acceptable.

I was then taken to one of the cushy chairs to have my blood drawn. This is where I broke down. I was so anxious and scared that I started crying before my arm was even poked. It is worth mentioning that I have terribly elusive vains and have had horrible experiences with needles in the past. The lady asked me a couple times if I was ok. Obviously I wasn't, but I mumbled pitifully, "Yeah." Another donor, whom I was facing, looked at me like I was out of my mind.

It couldn't have been more then a few minutes, but the time it took the woman to prepare my arm felt like much longer. She checked out the veins on both arms and looked disappointed. I know. I'm sorry. Deep veins. Then the actual needle stick came. It wasn't half bad. Not bad at all. But I quickly learned that she missed the vein. She called over who I assume was a more experienced phlebotomist who wanted to "look at it." Great. She dug the needle around in my arm a little (ouch) and...success!! In my nervousness, it didn't take long at all to fill up the bag. Actually, my blood pressure that morning was about 20 points higher than usual. Unfortunately, this meant that I lost blood (and therefore electrolytes, oxygen, and glucose) very quickly. I began to sweat profusely, shake a lot, become nauseous, and very nearly faint. I don't remember this part very well. Anyone who has fainted knows that very distinct feeling that goes with it. Senses become dull. There were about 4 people standing around me with ice packs, apple juice and an emesis basin. I was not in good shape. It was embarrassing. I stayed there until I felt better. The whole ordeal took over an hour, and I felt crappy all day. Right before I left, they gave me the aforementioned t-shirt. I was feeling slightly less than heroic.