On Thursday I had day of college. Thank goodness- I hate that place. While most people nursed a hangover from the college party that I couldn't afford, I spent the day revising Chemistry and practising right- and left-hand turns. I’m so cool.
When I turned 17, like every other 17-year-old I got the letter asking me to give blood. I had always intended too, and my mum has a tendency to give us no choice in it but my brothers and me don't really have opposition to it, as it’s the right thing to do. To give blood is to save someone’s life. However, only 1 in 100 that can actually do. ONE in a 100! We should be ashamed. No offence to this population, I know many people are scared etc, but sometimes others have to be put first.
My brother’s girlfriend, Jo, was coming with me. And I was absolutely bricking it. I mean when I was young I was fine with needles. Well not fine, I wouldn't go and volunteer for one (well actually I would but you get the point.) Until, that is, the day of the tester for the BCG jab. Watching my friend faint right next to me and then twitching under some chairs, kinda has an affect you know? I’m still scared when I hear the sudden scraping of chairs. Its not the pain I m scared off please I’ve lived with boys and their Chinese burns for my whole life but its just the prospect of fainting I just don’t like.
When I arrived, I had to sit down and read the manual. Fear mounted up even more. Then I was asked to come round the curtain. Well the nice lady, (everyone there is nice) wanted to check my form you know, usual stuff 'Any new piercing in last 12 months'? 'Born in South America'? 'Ever accepted money for sex'? You know the usual. There were a few queries about my medication and because I had to clean somebody's room at my work (old people’s holiday home) who had MRSA. Secretly, and most selfishly, I was hoping that they'd say I couldn't do it, so I could say at least I tried. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on what way you look at it from, the matron, who was called over, said I was fine. She then stapled me as to get a blood sample to test that my iron levels were ok. She noted that I was mean and squeezed my finger to get blood out. Squeezed so it started to hurt. Well she tested for iron in the solution but because I gave so little there was an air bubble in the sample so I had to do it again.
I was then told I was good, so I went out and waited and spoke to Cassie and the receptionist form my work, Janice. Nerves still there. But Janice convinced me I was doing a good thing and I wouldn't regret it.
I was finally called to go up. I had nobody with me. Nervous? Hell yeah. Thankfully I ended up with a really nice women, Vicki, who reassured me that she hadn’t lost anyone.... yet. (gee thanks). Thankfully, she put up with me asking questions 'Is it meant to hurt now'? 'Here?' 'What about now'? She put the pressure on my arm and put the needle in. Didn't hurt. For the minutous second it sung, yeah, expected but it didn't hurt at all. I was fine. I had my arm on the rest doing the exercises I was instructed to do. I was giving blood! Or at least I thought I was.
Vicki stood looking at the tubing coming out of my arms. Didn’t want to particularly look if I'm honest. 'What?' 'Is everything ok'? 'Well it seems that you don't want to give the blood' Talk about a heart of stone, huh. Well I had the needle in my arm and nothing was coming out. Matron was called over yet again for me. I had Cassie and Janice on the opposite beds that I kept waving at. Vicki noted that she had to pick a rubbish vein out of a bad lot. The matron sat there, pushed the needle in a little further ('Do we really have to!'), and said that my blood kept on coming on in bursts. After much waggling 'ooh I’ve got it-quick tape it'. Yet again, though, it just wasn’t coming out. 'We’re gonna have to end it'. So I sat there, had a needle in my arm, to give one eighth of a bag of blood.
They told me then to help myself to the loads of free crisps and biscuits (SCORE!) but I felt a bit bad taking them, as I hadn’t really done anything. Feeling useless and deflated, I knew I had to eat, as I didn't exactly want to be an even bigger problem by fainting. They had told me they had a big another sample so I can find out my blood type (yay! - I'm quite intrigued personally) and they told me that I shouldn't be put off as I had small veins, as now noted down on my records, because I am quite small (do I really need to be reminded), and that it was quite cold and I was possibly dehydrated.
Well, I tried. That’s the important thing. And I will try again. And it really wasn't painful. To give blood is to save a life - so I’ve at least saved a foot.