Bleeding love

Yesterday we had a blood drive at work.

I was "volunteered" to be the person checking people in. It wasn't a half bad job other than the fact that it was extremely windy outside and I had to sit outside the bus to check people in. Certainly made it challenging!

Anyway, as I sat there while people were coming and going, my mind started to wander a bit and I thought about how I wished that I could be one of the people going into that bus and stepping up to the plate to donate blood.

Yeah, I know, you're all going, so stop complaining, put your big girl pants on and do it.

The thing is - I'm not afraid of needles that much (although I've said before, does anyone ever say "boy I just can't wait to get a shot!). I'm afraid of passing out. I've come close, too close to having that happen before during blood draws and I didn't care for the feeling.

I have deep, deep set veins. Inherited from my dear Daddy. He has the same problems that I do and he also does not ever donate blood. Nurses struggle with both of us. Nurses who say "I've never missed a vein" end up hanging their heads in shame around us. I've been both apologized to and nearly yelled at in the lab before. I've had three times now where they've used the vein in the top of my hand - hey guess what? That HURTS.

It's not for lack of trying on my part! I drink tons of water before a blood draw. I try to beef up my iron supply. I flex my muscles hoping my veins will pop up a bit. Nope. No good. The result is the same every time - and the more the nurses fish around trying to make something work, the more woozy I get. It's to the point where I ask to lay down and also, to be allowed to sit for as long as I need and eat a granola bar or something after the fact.

I don't like feeling vulnerable like that. You can see why I don't choose to voluntarily go and let someone try to take my blood! I don't like the guilty feeling from such a decision but it doesn't usually get to me - until days like yesterday when I see all these awesome people stepping up and being treated nearly like royalty for the wonderful thing they are doing and feeling like just once I want to try.

But, I am a chicken. One day. Someday. I will be a hero too. There has to be some nurse somewhere who can do it. I have had one or two good ones in the last 15 or so years - so I know they're out there somewhere!