Last summer I had the opportunity to gallantly offer up a portion of my precious blood supply to the Red Cross for the first time. I have a late birthday, and when the Red Cross had come to our high school in the past, I had never been old enough to donate (I was also petrified of the process, but to anyone that asked, it was only the birthday issue that held me back from nobly wounding myself for the sake of others).
The day I did it was a day like any other, nondescript and hazy- the sort that precede the glazed days of August. I was driving home from another unremarkable day taking sandwich orders from busy men and important celebrities when I passed my high school and noticed a small sign outside that said they were hosting a blood drive.
I generally try to quell my impulsive, demonic urges, but that day I did not. Instead, I sped home and called my mother for permission. You see, I’m a terribly good, devoted daughter and I apparently felt that I needed her permission to give away my bodily fluids. I was unusually excited by this development for it had seemingly snapped me out of the weeks of sad, bitter mourning I’d been experiencing after my kitten had been hit by a car. My mother recognized this and gave me her usual response: “Shanna, I don’t know why you want to do the things you do, but it’s your choice…” accompanied with a somewhat resigned sigh.
My next item of action was to consult the Great and Omniscient Google for wisdom before proceeding. Besides a few basic pointers on the Red Cross website, I was a bit surprised by the lack of information on the whole leak-blood-into-a-bag thing. I went into my first blood donating appointment entirely unprepared and nearly met with certain disaster. My aim in writing this is to prepare any other first time donors- based on my experiences- for what really is a simple, rewarding process.
According to the Red Cross website, one should prepare for their appointment by consuming sixteen ounces of water or other fluids, eat a healthy iron-rich meal prior to donation and avoid fatty foods like hamburgers. Being the bright, obedient teenager I am, after reading that I sprang to the kitchen and devoured a leftover hamburger, washing it down with not just sixteen ounces of water, but sixty four. That’s right. I drank an entire day’s worth of liquids in about two minutes. Still stupidly exuberant, I collected the required picture ID and drove manically away. DO eat a healthy meal and DON’T drink more than sixteen ounces of water.
Somehow I arrived safely and after checking in, I was given a booklet about donating blood to read and supposedly comprehend. I was also handed a sixteen ounce bottle of water and told to drink it. Drink it all and enjoy it. As I cracked open the bottle, I noticed a vaguely uncomfortable feeling stemming from an overfilled bladder, but I ignored it, because at that point in time, I still naively believed that brainpower was stronger than the need to pee. After downing the bottle and skimming the packet, I was told to wait patiently for my turn to visit the pre-screening booth. DO actually read the packet and DON’T drink as if you’ve been stranded in the Sahara for the past month.
The pre-screening process was relatively quick, but not painless. My finger was swiftly pricked and a drop of my blood examined to be sure that I was not iron deficient. If you are iron deficient, you will be deferred until a later date. You should go home and use this as an excuse to eat the most expensive steak you can find. It’s the kind of sacrifice you have to make if you want to save lives. In all honestly, I remember the finger prick being the most painful thing in the entire donating process, and if you can remember anything at all from your days of pre-kindergarten inoculation, it seems like one of the most hideous things your parents ever subjected you to, but you still survived. After your blood is deemed worthy of donation, you’ll have to fill out a survey asking you about places you’ve been to and what sort of drug-related habits you partake in. DO answer honestly and DON’T fudge your responses. Severely ill or injured people are counting on you to be honest.
I was then released from the pre-screening area and led to a blue gurney where I was strapped down and my vital organs forcibly probed and removed. Uh, okay, not really. I instead was instructed to lie down as a particularly grumpy nurse choked the life out of my arms with a blood-pressure cuff, as she searched for just the right vein to puncture. After examining my left arm, she disdainfully deemed the vessels “puny” and thus unworthy to sacrifice their contents. Luckily, there existed one single vein in my right arm that was large enough and was thus selected. It was at that inopportune point that I realized I didn’t just have to use the restroom… I REALLY had to use the restroom. But the nurse was moving swiftly, and she had just slipped the needle into my arm by the time I became cognizant of this. It became quite clear to me then that this particular venture was doomed. DO go to the bathroom before they insert the needle and whatever you do, DON’T have puny blood vessels—it’s a sin worthy of waterboarding and being sent to bed without dinner to phlebotomists.
My predicament rapidly descended into a whirling vortex of pee-fueled pain. Time dragged on as I squirmed uncomfortably across the gurney like an epileptic seal. My angry nurse grew angrier and angrier as we realized my blood was fundamentally slow. I watched longingly as three other donaters arrived and left in rapid succession, all quickly processed by a decidedly attractive phlebotomist. The need to REALLY use the restroom had long passed and been replaced by I NEED TO GO THE BATHROOM OR SO HELP ME, I WILL WET MYSELF RIGHT. NOW. I remember staring at the ceiling, utterly disoriented with my panicked need to empty my bladder while my devil of a nurse shoved the bag of collected blood into my face. “Push!” she cried, sloshing my bodily fluids to and fro. “Hurry up and push, you’re almost there!” The entire gym fell instantly silent as dozens of surprised eyes turned on me, expecting to see me pumping out a baby right there on that Red Cross gurney. “Donating blood AND giving birth?” I expected them to murmur reverently, “This young lady’s an inspiration! Nay, she’s a hero!” DO bring something (like an ipod or book) to take your mind off the process and DON’T give birth.
After forty five minutes (the donating part should take about fifteen to twenty minutes if you’re normal) my poor, exasperated nurse finally unclipped my bag and removed the needle. Right on cue, she chidingly told me that I should have consumed more water before coming to donate. I would have choked or made some sort of noise in disgust in the back of my throat, had I not been petrified of accidentally setting off some sort of cataclysmic urinary explosion. The second she told me to sit up slowly, I rocketed upright, alert and desperate. “SLOWLY!” she screeched. She clamped her claws on my shoulder and guided me painstakingly to a lone table staffed by four over-excited volunteer middle schoolers. I will never forgive her for leaving me in their clutches. I was their lone victim, and although I pleaded with them, begged them and even tried to bribe them to let me go to the bathroom, they would not budge. Rules were rules, and there was supposedly a distinct danger of me passing out. I had to sit and be good for ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And look! I even had tasty little snacks to keep me occupied! This was their beguiling attempt at reasoning with me and it worked for roughly sixty seconds. DO ask for the Keebler fudge cookies afterward. They are magical. DON’T try to move too quickly. You may feel fine at first, but passing out isn’t fun, I promise.
I was almost in tears about two minutes into my waiting process. This was mostly in an attempt to alleviate the amount of fluid pressure in my body through my tear ducts, but I already knew it wasn’t going to work. The countdown had begun. I was removing my cellphone and other personal effects from my pockets, resigned to the fact that I was just going to have to go to the bathroom right there in front of four pre-teens when an angel of a volunteer approached me, graciously saying she would accompany me to the bathroom. I was tempted to fling myself upon her with joy, but to my credit, I meekly followed her instead. And thus my donating process ended with sheer relief and a coupon for six free pieces of chocolate-dipped fruit from Edible Arrangements.
I had dark bruising on the inside of my elbow for the next several weeks, and my arm was stiff for the next two days, but beyond that, the long-lasting effects of my Red Cross encounter were few and I did, in fact, feel good about what I’d done. I’d saved up to three lives, according to the part of the pamphlet I’d skimmed and managed to see. I imagine it would have gone much better had I not guzzled enough water to sustain a small elephant beforehand, or had I gone to the bathroom prior to being drained. So if you’re healthy and capable, go and donate! You’ve been blessed with a sound body while others haven’t, and it’s a very unselfish thing to repay that blessing forward to others who haven’t been as fortunate. Just pay attention to the Do’s and Don’ts listed here, and check out http://www.redcrossblood.org/donating-blood/first-time-donors for more extensive information.
I'm adding this a few months after I wrote this, because I figured out why my blood is so fundamentally slow: I have low blood pressure. It's genetic, and I'm usually about 105/65 or something like that. I've been told that they usually take your blood pressure when you're there, and if it's too low or too high, you can't donate.
They didn't take my blood pressure that day, and that was why my donation process took so long. If they had taken my blood pressure, I likely would not have been allowed to donate. So keep that in mind if you're interested in donating.
Shanna (author) from Utah on April 18, 2014:
Thank you for this kind response! I've since donated several times and I actually just donated again on Monday and it was probably the best donating experience I had. The nurse was a complete sweetheart, I had absolutely no stiffness and bruising the next day and even though my bleeding did slow down near the end, she repositioned the needle a little and I managed to fill the bag and tubes within 15 minutes. Every time I'm re-eligible to donate I make sure to donate. One grumpy nurse and an unusual first time isn't enough to deter me from saving lives. I have a negative blood type, so I understand the extra importance of my donating. Thank you again for this response. :)
mel on April 18, 2014:
Hi ... blood donating with red cross isn't that way here in Nebraska. We treat all our donors with patience and kindness, we take every last donor that has checked in prior to the donation end time until they are all processed, and we don't let anyone bleed longer than 20 min. Normally the bleed time is 5-10 min. I would like to add that with our computer program there is no way we could process you without doing Blood pressure but the blood pressure you said 105/65 is acceptable to use. Some first time donors have a slower bleed time because of nerves and the body slows things frim that nervous reaction. I am glad u still have followed with telling people to donate... eat a good meal the night before and consume an EXTRA 4-5 glasses of water the night before. Eat a good breakfast with good carbs and sugar(good lunch too if u are donating later in the day) and drink to stay well hydrated leading up to the donation. Potty before they get u stuck and try not to move yourself thus the arm and the vein with that needle sitting in it around while donating (the hub on that needle is pretty big so just too much nervous wiggling of that arm let's blood leak out into it and will cause bruising at the site- the bruise is not a bruise from being hurt it's just extra blood that the vein can leak into the body.) I am sorry the redcross worker was a bit grumpy.. we try our best but we are only human and we all have rough days or perhaps she felt u didn't hear her with all your concentrating on how uncomfortable u were and responded a little more gruffly than she should have. Please know we understand u are donating and getting only a thank u and snacks (and time out of class ;-) ) we appreciate your gift... without you we wouldn't do what we enjoy and people wouldn't receive life saving blood, plasma & platelets. You really have the potential to save 3 lives from newborns to people fighting cancer. Please donate again and keep telling others to donate, we need the younger crowd to keep donating because the majority of our regular donors are in an aging population that is disappearing. Thank you for the gift of life if you ever have questions about donating you can call red cross and speak with them and ask questions at the drives too
John D Nathan from Dallas, Texas. USA on October 14, 2012:
Okay that was crazy. I don't remember much about my process, because I haven't donated blood in over ten years, but I'm pretty sure it was a bit more nonchalant than that. Nice hub!
Shanna (author) from Utah on October 10, 2012:
Hah, thank you! The nurse was super grouchy for no reason, but I was feeling rather altruistic that day, and she was wielding a large needle, so I didn't quite have the desire to argue with her.... ;)
SweetiePie from Southern California, USA on October 10, 2012:
I enjoyed reading your story. I think the nurses working there need to be more patient and calm with people. It sounds like the one taking your blood might be a little to upset the smallest of things. I mean how does a nurse like that deal with a bigger situation, and do they no realize things are not perfectly scripted. I think you were harder on yourself than you needed to be, as very few of us donate blood.
Shanna (author) from Utah on March 14, 2012:
Hahaha definitely! Those cookies were the one thing that saved me in that encounter. Every time I've gone to donate blood out at school hasn't worked out though. They're always way behind with the walk-in's and even though I have an appointment, I always get sent home. =/ I feel so insulted for absolutely no reason, haha.
Lela from Somewhere near the heart of Texas on March 14, 2012:
Oh, how I wish every donor in the world would read this hub before donating! Maybe more people would donate. Do it for the cookies!
Shanna (author) from Utah on January 24, 2012:
Thank you very much! I appreciate it!
holdmycoffee on January 23, 2012:
GReat hub, very good writing. I enjoyed reading this hub. Keep up the good work!
Shanna (author) from Utah on January 22, 2012:
Thank you very much Lawrence! I am working on hubs, but it's slow work in between school and work and other commitments. :P
Lawrence Stripling on January 22, 2012:
The was terrific, it was really a great read. Thank You for writing it. You really should publish more hubs.
Shanna (author) from Utah on January 21, 2012:
Ms Susan- Thank you! And I'm pretty sure my mom actually did say that exactly. She legitimately didn't understand why I would want to donate blood!
Evelyn- Thank you! Now you know my FB page is the real thing, haha!
Evelyn on January 21, 2012:
Awesome, Shanna! I can't wait till more people discover you.
Susan Keck on January 19, 2012:
Ahhh, Shanna, that was great! Love your wit! I can so hear your Mom saying exactly what you quoted. HAHA Glad you finally made it to the bathroom without damaging anything important like your cell phone!