For the first time since moving to this country, I was able to donate blood and haven’t been more excited to have a needle stuck in my arm since my first COVID-19 shot.
When we lived In England, we donated pretty regularly. But on this side of the pond, we were considered tainted because of the mad cow disease outbreaks in the 1980s and ’90s. The ban on Brits and others who lived in parts of Europe from 1980 to 2001 was finally lifted in November because, while the disease can result in a rare brain disorder in humans, it was decided any risk from blood donation was minimal.
I’m going to walk you through the process to show it’s not so scary and to emphasize that it’s a small effort that can help a lot of people — one that too few people choose to do. Sad to say, while about 38% of the population in the U.S. is eligible to give blood, less than 5% of them actually do, according to the Versiti Blood Center of Illinois.
I’m also going to give you a small cautionary tale so that if you’re inclined to the same proclivity I am, you go in forewarned and weigh the pros and cons because I still believe this is such an important thing to do.
First, like most things in this country, there is a small bundle of red tape to cut through before you hold out your arm. That meant answering nearly 50 questions on a computer in Versiti’s mobile unit, which was parked in downtown Naperville. That, and testing a blood drop to make sure I had enough iron, didn’t take long.
I was shown to a very comfortable red leather chair where I could put my feet up and relax. It was like flying first class, or how I imagine that would be if I’d ever done it. The technician coated my arm with so much iodine it looked like I’d dipped it in a bottle of fake tan but the needle didn’t hurt any more than a regular blood test. Before long a pint of Hilary’s finest was pumping through the tubes into a pouch below.
It only took a few minutes and I was rewarded with a bottle of water and a packet of Cheez-Its. Grumpy and I took photos of each other completing our good deeds and then we were good to go.
What happens next is not very common but it does happen. Please don’t let it dissuade you because the Red Cross sees a big decline in donations in the summer so your help is very much needed and appreciated.
Let me begin by saying I have a history of fainting. When I was pregnant, I passed out while waiting in line at a theme park because of the heat. Fortunately, it didn’t affect those in the line behind who simply walked over me as they advanced a space.
I’ve also daintily slid under tables in restaurants and slithered down Grumpy’s legs. Don’t worry, I’ve been checked out thanks to one of Edward Hospital’s finest $800 “taxis” and now know I’m just susceptible to certain triggers.
I’ve only fainted once after donating blood, and it was so long ago that I was expecting/hoping this time would be different. I did everything I was told to do — took my time getting up, made sure I was hydrated and fed, but as soon as I’d stepped down onto the street, I knew what was happening. Fortunately, Grumpy knew exactly how to help.
“Here, lay on this bench while I stick your purse under your head.”
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to lay down on one of those metal benches on Jefferson Street with a lumpy bag sticking in your ear but I wouldn’t recommend it. Fortunately, within seconds I’d drifted off into a nice relaxing sleep, which as a self-confessed insomniac was very welcome.
I woke to someone calling my name, over and over. For a moment I thought it was my mum waking me up for school.
“Can you open your eyes for me?”
I was sure I could, I just couldn’t be bothered. I opened one as a compromise and saw facing me the technician who’d helped me fill in my form. I grabbed hold of Grumpy’s leg, probably in the hope it would make it more difficult for them to cart me off to hospital. I don’t think he even noticed because afterwards he recalled being transfixed by my eyes rolling back into my head.
“Can you cough for me?” said a voice. “Try clenching your stomach muscles.”
I dreamt I made a loud coughing sound but could barely manage a whisper. I felt a few cold compresses on my neck and head, which were quite refreshing but fell off as someone tried to sit me up.
“Do you think you could manage some orange juice?”
Since I outside Kilwins, I’d have preferred an ice cream, but I tried my hardest to take a sip. Within seconds I started to wake up and was hurriedly helped back onto the bus and into another super comfy chair. After a few moments in the air conditioning, I felt so much better. But couldn’t help wondering if they’d simply moved me to get me off the street. I mean, it’s hardly good advertising to have a donor passed out while they’re encouraging passers-by to donate.
But I digress. I lived to tell the tale and to urge you to do the same. What happened to me is very rare and, according to the Red Cross, someone in the U.S. needs blood every two seconds, which makes it worth the chance. It can help patients survive surgeries, cancer treatments, traumatic injuries and chronic illnesses. One day that patient may be you.
So, despite it all, I’m pleased I did my part to help. And I hope it’s a real shot in the arm for the person it helps.
Hilary Decent is a freelance journalist who moved to Naperville from England in 2007.
