The Blood Bank Experience

I used to give blood all the time. Then I had three bad giving blood experiences in a row, and so I stopped and I dropped off the blood bank radar. Well, then back a couple months ago one of the areas I work with had a blood drive, so in a show of support, I signed up. Now I'm back on the map!

Yesterday, I had an answering machine message. "This is Donna from the Central Pennsylvania Blood Bank. We are in extreme need of your blood type. There is an organ transplant patient at Hershey Medical Center that has depleted our supply of B positive blood and we are looking for people that would be able to donate before the holiday weekend. If you are able, please give me a call so that we can schedule a time."

My first cynical thought was "I bet there really isn't an organ transplant patient with B positive blood, and this is all a clever scam to get my blood." Then my second thought was "if there is an organ transplant patient with B positive blood, do they know that they are being blamed for the shortage of that blood type in Central Pennsylvania?" Either way, they got me, so today I called and asked if I could come over right away. They said sure, so I hopped in my car and went over to the donor center.

I passed all the little tests they put you through. It's kind of like the scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade where he has to go through all the tests in the cave or whatever to get the Holy Grail. I'm always worried that I'm going to check off the wrong box and the testing lady will turn to me and say "you chose poorly." But I didn't. Then they put my blood in the little vat of blue water to see if it had enough iron, and it took it's good old time sinking to the bottom (seriously like five minutes). Secretly in my head I was yelling at it. "Sink damn you. Sink"

Finally I got through. They shove the needle in my arm and start pumping away. Then this guy comes in, and the needle sticker lady cannot get a vein. She's poking around and keeps asking him if "he's ok." He is, so she keeps digging in his arm. I'm trying not to look because the last time that happened to someone near me, I almost passed out and they had to flip me backwards, so my feet were up in the air. Then the poker calls her supervisor (at which point my thing beeps to say that it has all the blood it needs...thank goodness!). The supervisor is now digging around in his arm. They're trying everything. Give him a stress ball. Take away the stress ball. Undo the elastic strap and put it on tighter. I walked out, and they still hadn't gotten it in. I wanted to suggest that they try his other arm, but what do I know. So I go out to the "cantina"...Cantina apparently means table set up by the receptionist's desk with cookies and juice on it...and start drinking some apple juice and eating peanut butter crackers. All of the sudden the needle prodder lady, sprints out to the "cantina" grabs a Pepsi and a straw and runs back into the little room. That's not a good sign! I was fine though. I didn't follow the directions to leave the bandage on for an hour and not do strenuous exercise for 24 hours because I had yoga in 40 minutes. It was fine though, and I'll probably donate blood again in 8 weeks or whatever the time limit is.