Bloodmobile

The National Honor Society recently sponsored a bloodmobile at the Stark County High School.

Living in a small community, The News often has calls about different events or accidents or even the first robin sighting. This time the call was for the bloodmobile. There were 36 students that donated blood that day.

Because I was there taking photos, I decided to stay and donate myself.

My first time giving blood was in high school. I requested special permission from the basketball coach.

Coach gave her permission, but with two conditions. One, to donate as early as possible. And two, not to expect any leniency for practice that evening. Many of the Stark County Students said they got out of track practice, while I was remembering a two hour practice with arms that felt like jelly and weighted about a ton. My, how times have changed.

I was curious how the blood donation was handled. I am not a stranger to needles, for a short time I received allergy shots. With my farm background and mom a nurse, medical procedures were not a thing to be afraid of. But I startled the phlebotomist (the health worker trained in drawing blood) by asking,

"Is that a 12 gauge or 14 gauge?"

All needles are measured in gauges. The larger the number, the smaller the needle, the smaller the number (lowest measuring is 7), the larger the needle. The phlebotomist throught it strange that a high schooler, with no evidence of needle tracks on her arms would have any idea what the needle gauge was. She did answer me (it was smaller than I thought) and then asked me how I knew to ask such a thing.

Embarrassed, I told her that those were the size of the needles my father used on the cows. (That threw me, in my mind those needles were used on the cows, not humans)

After all that effort, you would think the donation would continue smoothly and I would show up at basketball practice with a sticker on my shirt and a band-aid on my arm.

No such luck.

Several people that arrived after I did, finished their donation and left. The phlebotomist kept checking my pint and eventually started wiggling the needle in my arm. Finally, she decided that the needle must have some burr in it that prevented the blood from flowing. I was disconnected with only a half-full pint. Pretty memorable first time?!

I have continued to give blood over the years (unfortunately it has been years, 20 this summer) not regularly, but often enough to appreciate the valuable, life-saving resource that depends on volunteers.

Be a life saver. Give blood.

You won't be sorry you did.