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Bloodletting: a confession

Michele gave blood earlier this evening at the church down the road. I have a confession to make: I have never, in my entire life, donated blood. While Michele dutifully disappeared into the mysterious blood-giving room to donate blood, I sat outside sheepishly reading a library book, trying not to make eye contact with the lady managing the front desk.

I have just one reason for not giving blood, but it's a compelling one in my eyes: I hate needles. I mean, I really, really hate needles. Just the thought of having a needle buried in my skin is enough to make me physically cringe; the idea of lying still for 45 minutes with a needle stuck deep into my arm draining my blood fills me with a horror I cannot express in words. I'm quite certain that I'd succumb to a panic attack within minutes.

This secret fills me with shame everytime I hear a Red Cross commercial asking for blood donations, and everytime a local church/school/organization sets up a blood drive and I am forced to weasel my way out of participating. If there were any other way to give blood, any other way at all that didn't involve puncturing my skin with a needle and leaving it impaled in my arm for an hour, I would do it. I swear.

But not as long as the needle is involved.

Comments

Andy, I completely feel your pain. I had actually managed to go from June 1994 to last December without having a needle pierce my skin once, and was prepared to go the rest of my life until, at a routine physical, my doctor ambushed me with a surprise cholesterol test I couldn't get out of. She mentioned I should also have a tetanus shot next year, but I'm not planning to do that until having a rusty nail stuck through my foot necessitates one.

I was quickly cured of any needle phobias during my infamous Allergy Shot Years (1987-1988). I had to get shots, one in each arm, once a week at the beginning. At first, it was extremely unpleasant, but as the shots moved progressively further apart to twice a month, once a month, once every other month, etc., I started to be very accepting of getting stuck with needles.

All that being the case, it wasn't until last year that I got talked into participating in the church's blood drive. It wasn't a phobia as much as it was selfishness: What's mine is mine. Why should some other poor bastard get the blood that I've worked so hard to develop for myself? If he'd managed his own blood better, he wouldn't need mine to bail him out...just kidding. But it certainly was more of an apathy on my part than any other considerations.

It actually wasn't that bad and I've done it twice now. You only spend about 10-15 minutes with the needle in your arm, depending on how fast you bleed (apparently, I am a champion bleeder). You really only feel discomfort when they jam that bad boy into your vein.

The really disconcerting part of my first blood donation experience was the nurse looking like she had no idea where my vein was. She poked and prodded at my arm, and then called another nurse over for a "vein check." I was about to tell them that I'd rethought the whole blood donation thing and that I really hadn't intended to donate my peace of mind as well.

But it turned out okay, and in a short 15 minutes, I was a pint lighter, sipping on a juice box like a first grader and receiving a Red Cross t-shirt that reads "Give Life, Donate Blood" on the front. On the back it reads, "Or don't donate blood and just take life. Whatever. It's totally up to you. No pressure. But if you loved America and our troops you would donate. But whatever. I'm sure you have really good reasons for totally disregarding the lives of others. I'll tell that dying child who needs your help that you were just too busy. No really, it's fine, don't worry about it."

Personally, I thought the shirt was a little over the top, but how can you complain about a free shirt?

I'm joining the 2 Gallon Club soon. The drawback to your mom being a nurse and in charge of the church blood donation drive is you get to participate every single time. Oh well, those needles don't bother me anymore. My trick is to inflict more pain by pinching myself as they are putting in the needle. That way I don't focus on the big needle being shoved into my arm. Stupid, I know but it works for me. And now I get to add a 2 Gallon Club pin to my collection of stuff. I have about 15 different "Blood Donor" t-shirts....

Hi Bill, I also got over excessive fear of needles due to allergy shots. I don't much care for the idea of having a needle in my arm sucking out my blood either, and hence try to get it over with as quickly as possible and end up feeling woozy, like a Peanuts character that has been hit in the head with too many fly balls.

Michele, I've never felt woozy or light-headed after I've given blood. I always feel exactly the same going out as I did coming in, except for the unnecessarily huge bandage on my arm. It still doesn't mean that the Red Cross nazis will let me go without waiting around for another 15 minutes.

As for the needle discomfort, it's not the initial insertion that gets me as much as the fooling around they do with the tubing while the needle is in your vein. Sticking it in is bad enough without having to feel it getting jostled around in your vein.

I paint quite a picture don't I? If that doesn't make you feel like donating, I don't know what will...

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