Nobody Makes Me Bleed My Own Blood
We humans are very complicated. I once thought that humanity was genuinely good. But I don’t know that I believe that anymore. We can be good, but also very, very bad.
We can give birth to life… we can take life.
We can love… we can hate.
We can inspire people… we can crush people’s hopes and ambitions.
You get the point.
With all the evil in this world, I try to be a good human. I’m not perfect, but I strive to love, care, inspire, and hope. I don’t always succeed, but I make an effort.
Last week, as I was walking through the cafe at the office, there was a gentleman who approached me about a blood drive. He gave me a pamphlet and told me to stop by and help save lives.
Blood donors help patients of all ages: accident and burn victims, heart surgery and organ transplant patients, and those battling cancer. Every two seconds, someone in the U.S. needs blood.
After reading about the importance of blood donation and how a bit of my red fluid could help save a life, I decided to help!
I answered a lengthy questionnaire, rolled up my sleeve, and prepared to be a hero!
Then I saw the size of that needle!
I get a yearly physical. I have gotten blood drawn many times. But the needle for blood donations is way bigger than the thin one at the Doctor’s office. This thing was huge!
I’m not “afraid” of needles, but I also don’t love to get stabbed. Yes, I’m overreacting but I was taken by surprise by the size of this thing.
Once the needle went in, my worry was gone. All I had to do was squeeze a rubber item and watch my blood flow out of my body.
Beep, Beep, Beep.
The machine kept beeping and the blood professional (is that their name?) kept trying to adjust the needle but the machine kept beeping. Eventually, she asked the manager to come over.
Though blood was coming out, it was doing so very slowly. The “manager” kept adjusting the needle inside my arm. He kept doing so in a way that looked like he was crocheting a blanket. The motions, the pulls, the pushes, it was all too uncomfortable… and painful.
Me: What’s going on?
Blood Manager: We’re having a hard time getting a good flow.
Me: OK… why?
Blood Manager: I dont’ know. Did you drink lots of water today?
Me: ehh… I drank as much water as I normally do.
Blood Manager: You may be dehydrated.
Me: Really?
After lots of trying and me giving this blood professional an evil look, they decided to pull out the needle and wave the white flag.
My arm was “patched” and was given a choice to wear a colorful wrap for my arm. This has always been known as a “badge” of honor. The colorful wrap tells the world that you are a hero! That you did a good deed. You are one of the good guys!
My wrap was a lie!
After my failed attempt at donating blood, I started to walk out disappointed, but not before I turned around and looked at the blood professional like…
I had good intentions. I wanted to save a life. What I ended up doing was getting some blood drawn, which would go to waste as I wasn’t able to fill the bag.
I will never forget this experience. Why? because I literally ended up with a reminder of my unsuccessful attempt at a good deed.
Will I ever try to donate blood again? Unlikely. I need to find a different way to be a decent human. One that has a higher success rate.
