I reached a milestone yesterday: I donated my 24th pint of blood — 3 gallons!1 I used to have a rule: no talking about needles while I’m driving.2 We want to keep the driver conscious. I decided my fear of needles wasn’t optimal and decided to donate blood to get over it.
Yeah, there’s even fine print for this simple statement. I was fourth to give blood. The three ahead of me went straight into the medical information booths without having to wait. Still, I arrived before the volunteer who signs donors in, hands out the medical information booklets, and gives the queue numbers. ↩
I also beat my goal of giving blood four times this year by 50%.
I’d like to say, “I am not a wimp” — but I am. After donating blood two or three times without issues, I decided to give blood sitting up, like everyone else does. Bad idea. After nearly filling the bag, I could feel the blood drain from my face. I alerted the workers and they got me lying flat with my feet elevated. Ah…
Oh well. I filled the bag. It didn’t hurt. And I saved up to three lives.