I donated blood last week. It was the third time in the last year, but after a gap almost a decade long. Forever ago, I worked in downtown San Francisco, and for nearly ten years I would donate at the Blood Centers of the Pacific every two to three months. Then I stopped working in the city, I went and had a kid, started fertility treatments, started getting tattooed, and what do you know? almost ten years passes without donating a drop of blood.
A couple of months ago it occurred to me that maybe donating blood had been good for me. Tragically, I don’t mean in the “doing good for someone else makes you feel good” kind of way. I meant more in a blood-letting, medieval leeches sort of way. It’s difficult to describe the enormous number of theories – some of them completely outrageous – you develop about your health when your body starts attacking itself and no professional can tell you why. After months of doctors shaking their heads in confusion, theories about toxic build-ups in the blood or metal in tatto-ink poisoning seem completely rational. So, back in August, the requisite year out from my last tattoo session, I went to a blood drive a couple blocks from our house and ended up signing up for a Red Cross account with an electronic donor card.
My second recent visit was to the Red Cross Blood Donation facility in Oakland. I scheduled my appointment to time with therapy session which was a couple blocks away. Gave me 50 minutes of extra recovery time afterwards. Smart cookie, aren’t I? I had to wait a while, which made me both happy and sad for them. Happy that they had enough donors that my appointment was bumped a bit; and sad that they probably struggled to staff the facility.
For those of you who have never donated blood, here’s a quick overview. First they must screen you. The screening is in part physical, making sure your weight, blood pressure, iron, pulse, etc. are all up to the task of donating, and in part historical/epidemiological. They want to know a LOT about your background to ensure that you are an appropriate donor. Sadly, donation centers are highly xenophobic and prejudiced. Foreigner?, homosexual?, former drug user? Don’t even bother. While I do not approve of that rigidity, it does not stop me from donating. While they are prejudiced in who can donate, they are never selective about who can receive blood.
On that visit in Oakland, my screener was an absolute delight. I asked him how long he had been doing this work, and he said since 2008. Before that he’d been a mechanic for 13 years. He loved this job in spite of the hours and the stress because he was doing something good. Somehow my personality or responses made his day, and he flattered me incessantly as a result. I felt like royalty, I was lavished. His smile and laughter was infectious. I had a simple realization that not only was he helping to save lives with his work, but he was improving peoples’ lives one person at a time just by engaging them and making them feel good about themselves.
Giving is essential, but I think we forget its importance. Perhaps, we worry over how little we have to give: how little time, how little money, how little energy. We constantly conserve ourselves. To me it was good to be reminded that even the littlest of gifts make a difference.
So I ask you to consider giving. I don’t necessarily mean blood, although that is always needed. What I mean are things like looking your waiter in the eye and thanking her sincerely. Or smiling at a pedestrian you pass in the street. Or nodding your head in gratitude and acknowledgement at a city worker, police officer, or firefighter. Or maybe you’re introverted and eye contact shy; try picking up a bit of trash on the sidewalk or slowing down and letting someone merge into your lane. Try to give just one thing each day.