Today I gave blood for the third time and despite the knowledge that my pint of plasma and platelets could save three lives, I don't think I'll ever get used to the idea that a part of me might soon be coursing through someone else's veins. Maybe "I" will be part of a truck driver from Nebraska or a six-year-old in Georgia, even if only until my red blood cells die and are replaced. That's a beautiful and terrifying thing.
As I walked into the room, "Don't Fear the Reaper" was playing on the radio—creepy or reassuring coincidence? (At least I didn't develop a fever for more cowbell as I watched my life force flow into a plastic bag.)
(Strange Confession of the Day: I don't mind having needles stuck in me. Sometimes it even makes me giggle.)
1 comment:
I've always wondered if anyone has received their own previously-donated blood in a transfusion.
I feel like I SHOULD give blood but, unlike you, I really dislike having needles stuck in me. Also I get lightheaded from standing up, so it would be a bad idea to get rid of any of my blood.
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