My first (and so far only) experience giving blood wasn't what you might call great circumstances. I had no plans at all to do it. It was a spur of the moment thing. Truth be told, I didn't actually want to do it that first time. I was apprehensive about the whole thing. And I had to pee really really badly. Like....bad.
I was apprehensive, and still am, because I feel weird about my blood going to another person. I feel almost violated by it. I mean, what if my blood goes into somebody who I really hate. Just the idea of having my blood. In somebody else's body. It's kind of disturbing to me. I don't know why it should. But it does. So, I wasn't too thrilled by my first (and what I assumed would be my last) blood giving experience. That was really the only part of it that I didn't like.
So, the lady calls my house. Can I make it down to the blood donor clinic, they're dangerously low on blood, and they have multiple traumas coming in, etc etc. And as I said, my initial reaction was one of "get lost lday". But as the message sunk in a little more, I got a bit more reflective. I mean, what happens when they don't have any more blood? They're screwed right? And eventually, you know, I think it was the "multiple traumas" that got me. I just watch too much ER. I think about hospitals in terms of that show. I think if they were to ask me again, I would do it, if it were convenient for me. No way am I going down to Oak Street. But if it were up at school again or something, then maybe I would consider it, you know?