“B-Negative. Are you talking about my attitude, or my blood type?” — A wounded Marine, 1967
It has been interesting to me to see the news coverage of people standing in line for a couple of hours to donate blood for the victims of the mass shooting in El Paso. Presumably this occurred in Dayton, too. It is laudable to do this.
Please allow me to suggest that blood donation is praiseworthy, in and of itself. It may not be “a moment” when someone is injured in a car crash, or needs blood because of an illness, or surgery. As one who received blood when it was needed – it’s a big deal. I encourage blood donation, perhaps regular blood donation. While the recipient of the blood is almost never known, the generosity is a clear good, and it’s tangible. Blood centers keep track of donor participation, and make mention of milestones achieved, maybe a lapel pin, or a T-shirt. Plus, there are free cookies!
It may not be an act of heroism, though, I suppose it is if one is afraid of the process, and still does it anyway. When on the other side of the transfusion, it is something for which someone may well be very grateful.
I did have an odd thing happen once. I donated blood at the end of a long day. It went well, the nurses thanked me, and I got my cookies. I was told they needed a lot of my blood type for someone who fell off his motorcycle. He was bleeding a great deal. I thought no more about it.
The next afternoon I visited a friend, Bruce Obetts, in the hospital. Bruce had Hodgkins lymphoma. I asked him how he was doing. “Actually,” he said, “today I feel pretty good. This morning I got a unit of blood that had been intended for a bike crash guy, but he didn’t need as much as they thought he might. They had a unit left over, and they gave it to me. It’s not going to save me (it didn’t), but it they gave it to me so that I’d feel better. And I do.”
It’s speculative to think my friend got my blood, but he and I and motorcyclist shared the same blood type. I had been the last donor of the day. So I’ve always indulged myself to think that my blood donation pepped him up a little, and I liked that idea.
In my own case, as a recipient, I have no doubt the anonymous blood donors who supplied blood that I needed saved my life, way back when. Thanks, guys and gals.
Which do you have to be to donate? Democrat or Republican, conservative or liberal. white or a person of color? This is the human spirit at its best. Learn a lesson from this…….
Basura, I’m so glad you decided to write about this so-important issue.
Many people don’t know that blood is a perishable product, good for only about 30 days. Before blood is discarded it can be separated into one or two other forms of blood product, but even that has a short shelf life.
My husband and I have been donating blood since college days, but I never had a great story to humanize this topic. Only once, back in the 1980s, I got called in special for my O- blood. There was a need for blood for babies, and the bag in which they collected the blood had six littler bags attached, like octopus legs, for the blood to be transferred to via sterile tubes. That donation was, at once, very satisfying and somewhat sad.
As we both enter our twelfth gallons of donations, giving blood is more routine for us than seeing the doctor or dentist. (You can donate up to six times per year, and in larger cities like our Chandler, AZ, there are collection sites all over the place all the time.)
By the way, they give out more than cookies nowadays! You can get packaged fruit snacks, and other yummies, too!
Peace.