Of something red and warmly given

Have you donated blood before? The last time I did, was on 15 July 1998! I was swept along by the "Give Blood, Save Lives" campaign or something similar of such slogan. And I remember it vividly, because I only managed to give slightly less than 400ml before I felt faint. And that almost 400ml trickled into the bag (which took a good half hour!), unlike others who filled up the 500ml bag in no time at all. The doctor and nurses immediately said enough after they had a look at my face which by then had turned quite pale. Even giving that little amount, I couldn't get up, and had to lie down for a good 45 minutes. Well, that was the first and last time I have ever donated blood, and it was during my pre-hypertensive days. Nowadays, due to the daily medication, am not entitled to donate blood.

Actually, I have always been apprehensive about needles poking me. I saw enough of it (well, not me, but others being poked) during my secondary school days as I was a member of the Malaysia Red Crescent Society, and helped out during one of the blood donation drive. I could barely look as the needle was inserted, and when I saw the blood gushing out into the bags, I was flabbergasted. And yes, I did cop a feel of the blood bag and it was surprising warm (to me anyway), but heck, the warmness was to be expected. After all, aren't all of us warm blooded beings?

The first time I was consciously aware of having a blood test, I saw the humongous needle and almost freaked out. The doctor reassured me that it wouldn't hurt, but who would believe the doctor after seeing the needle! Actually, it wasn't painful, just an initial pricking sensation as the sanitised needle punctured the skin and delved into the vein to draw out the required amount. But I didn't look in my moment of anxiety, turning away all through the process and even refused to see how much blood they took. After that, I made it a point never to look at the needles before a blood test and never to see the actual process of the insertion of needles and the withdrawal of blood.

However, today I did my blood test for a checkup required to purchase some insurance cover. As the matronly looking doctor was preparing for the "moment", I quickly looked away. The doctor chuckled, and I told her that I don't like needles. Somemore, after hearing that I don't like needles, she had the cheek to say:

Female Doctor (with her evil grin): Make a fist, and keep still. If I can't find the vein, I may have to prick you three or four times!

Me (thinking in my head!): What the *(&@#*!!!

Female Doctor (with her even more evil grin): And I am taking this opportunity to whack you, for never listening to me to lose weight and to exercise more! (and just as she said that, she whacked my hand a few times to find that elusive vein).

As though I wasn't feeling apprehensive enough, I had to hear that. But after the ordeal was over, I did steal a glance at the needle and the amount of blood taken, and I was like, "Wah! She took so much blood!". Somehow, the blood looked a lot darker, more like a deeper red than the one in this picture, but yes, I did see something like that little droplet at the end of the syringe.

I guess through it all, if I could donate blood, I think I would again, no matter my distaste for the needle. But I can't, so won't dwell on it too much. However, here's to hoping all would help in one way or another, to donate that little amount of blood for someone who may need it in desperate times. Give blood, save a life.