Editor’s donor fears
thwarted by late arrival
BY: LINDSAY IRVIN
I am terrified by knives, needles or anything sharp that can
poke, pierce, slice, slit, stab or cut.
Ask my family or friends – or a kid named Nathan who, while
we were only in third grade, chased me around the school kitchen with a butcher
knife. He was only playing, not realizing the danger of the sharp metal he
aimed at me, but it still traumatized me enough to instill a fear of pain
associated with being sliced and diced.
Recently, a friend of mine in medical school told me about
the constant need for blood in North Texas.
After learning more, I felt compelled to donate some of my own.
Now, I have felt compelled before, and I have chickened out
before, but this time was different. I knew almost instantly that I was going
to do it – in spite of my tendency to faint when I get shots.
As the day of my donation approached, I became aware that
they must prick
your finger to test your blood before you donate. This fact was scarier than
the thought of watching them stick a needle into my vein.
I’ve had my finger pricked before, and it wasn’t a pleasant
experience. It felt as if someone had stapled my finger to a desk, and if that
was not enough, the phlebotomist then brutally squeezed my fingertip to gather
the oozing blood.
I cringe just remembering this. Almost as soon as she began
to squeeze my finger, I passed out.
So, armed with the knowledge that this would happen again, I
called for support from my fellow editors. I begged someone to come with me for
moral support – someone to be there if I got sick or tried to back out. No one
volunteered.
Oh, by the
way, I didn’t get my ears pierced until I was 21 because I was too afraid. My
best friend took me to the mall, bought me a couple of margaritas, then dragged
me down to Claire’s.
Lord knows what I was thinking attempting this donor stunt.
Jan. 23 arrived too soon – I thought I would get over my
fear before the day came – but the anxiety was still there as I pulled up out
front of the Medical Center of McKinney, where the Carter BloodCare bus was
stationed for the day.
I apprehensively reached for the door handle of bus, taking
a deep breath and ignoring the frenzied heartbeat in my chest.
As I pulled on the handle, I noticed it wasn’t opening. It
didn’t take long for me to realize it was locked or for the lady inside the bus
to turn me away after I knocked and alerted her to my arrival.
I had called ahead and set my appointment for 3 p.m.
(supposedly the last time slot available to donors), so I didn’t understand. It
turns out I was just late enough (seven minutes late because of a stalled rig
on Central Expressway) to be rejected – and feel dejected.
Now, I am a firm believer in fate, and am almost convinced
that this was God’s way of keeping me from harm, but who knows? Maybe I
should’ve left the office a little earlier. Either way, my adventures in
attempted blood donation continue. I plan to try again soon.
The good news is that 41 people actually showed up – on time – to give
their blood.
Lindsay Irvin can be
reached at lirvin@neighborsgo.com or 469-330-5684.
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