The right thing to do

At the end of July the local new stations were reporting on a blood shortage in Indianapolis. 

In the summer of 1978, I had to have a blood transfusion so I really felt like I should donate and “pay back” this debt that I had.

I tried to donate once.  We had a big blood drive at work after 911 but my husband and I had just been on a cruise and one of the ports-of-call was Haiti so we weren’t eligible for a year.  And I guess after that there was (for some reason) a fear in me to donate.  I had just finished my run challenge in July and I was going to do more cross training.  My husband donates frequently and never has a problem.  So this seemed like the perfect time. 

 
Well, the first “bump in the road” was that I “disclosed” that I had a blood disease in 1978.  No one had heard of it but after several internal conversations and a call to a doctor, I was told that I could donate.  Since my weight was close to the minimum requirement, they decided they would take less than the 1 pint that they normally get from someone.  They also asked me to try and eat something before we started.  Both of these things, we certainly come in to play later.

I got “hooked up” and although it wasn’t the most pleasant experience it wasn’t too bad.  I was squeezing the ball as I was instructed to do.  I’m not sure how much time had passed but all of a sudden – bam – everything felt like it was starting to close in on me like.  I felt like I was going to pass out.  I just wanted to close my eye but they wouldn’t let me and they kept trying to talk to me by asking questions about my family, my job.  They said I turned completely white, my BP dropped, and I started shaking.  They started putting ice packs on and around me.  They wanted me to eat cookie and drink a soda but I opted for water and some fruit snacks instead.  They decided that they had gotten enough blood, even though it was less that the (lower) amount that they going to take anyway and unhooked me.

It was very discouraging.  I was there for almost 2 hours.  I sat in that chair and watched people come and go.  I’m going to chalk it up to the fact that maybe since I was close to the weight minimum and the fact that I eat 5-6 small meals it affected my ability to donate.  I later learned that it’s better to eat a meal high in protein prior to donating.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I’m very glad that I donated blood.  It’s the right thing to do and it you are able to, I strongly suggest that you do so.  But I think I’m one and done.