No, I haven't had male to male sex - can I give blood now?
January 26th 2008 22:04
I couldn’t write a bloody thing on Friday. Bit of a PMS headache lurched around my left eye-ball, making thought fuzzy and nerves exposed. Now I’m not a great believer in the ol’ writer’s block excuse. Writing is writing, and writing shit is just as worthwhile as writing the opposite of shit, which must be… I dunno, you know – the opposite. Even writing shit was hard. Not even chocolate was helping.
I needed a distraction to take me out of feeling sorry for myself. So I paged through the Southern Courier looking for – who knows - something to read, something to go, ‘ah look… there’s a house for sale up on Carrington Street… with three bedrooms and a lockup garage,’over.
Instead, I found an advert saying that the mobile blood bank was going to be in Mascot for the day.
Now I haven’t given blood in a long long time. Last time I did so, I was a student at uni, and was turned away because I was anemic. I was a vegetarian at the time, and I felt very rejected, because there’s nothing more pitiful than fronting up for an act of altruism and being turned away due to bad blood.
But here it was. I’ve been thinking about becoming a blood donor for ages, but never seem to get around to it. Too busy writing.
As I grabbed my bag and keys, I popped two disprin for the PMS headache that was shrouding my eyeballs with a dull ache.
I got to the venue, feeling all noble and smiled at all the other noble folk who had put time aside to do something utterly selfless in this city that has been dubbed as the city of the haves and the have-yachts, and as one of the most spiritually impoverished by Oliver James in his book Affluenza. Sitting in that hall surrounded by young and old, I felt a bit of a lump in my throat as I considered that not all of humanity was a waste of oxygen.
I had to fill in five pages of medical history. I had to reveal that I’ve had a colonoscopy in the past six months, pneumonia twice in the past ten years, cold sores in winter… I also had to answer questions about whether I’ve had male to male sexual intercourse. Ever. Or with someone who may have had male to male intercourse. I felt confident resisting the temptation to call the hubby. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that, some of my best friends and so on…)
I was sure that with my colourful history of hospital visits, and the florid love affairs of my youth, I’d be turned away. But it was in my confession that I’d taken two disprin that morning that I nearly came undone. There was a lot of oohing and aahing and checking of data on computers. There were conferrals with the nurses. Shaking of heads. But George, the lovely man handing out the questionnaires returned with a massive grin on his sweet face telling me that though they wouldn’t be able to use my platelets, they’d just love my red blood cells.
So two hours later, massive bandage on my arm, and festooned with stickers saying ‘be nice to me… I gave blood today,’ I left feeling that despite the fact that I’d been useless on my laptop, that maybe my little bag of red blood cells will come in handy to someone who’d had a much rougher day than I had.
www.joannefedler.com
I needed a distraction to take me out of feeling sorry for myself. So I paged through the Southern Courier looking for – who knows - something to read, something to go, ‘ah look… there’s a house for sale up on Carrington Street… with three bedrooms and a lockup garage,’over.
Instead, I found an advert saying that the mobile blood bank was going to be in Mascot for the day.
Now I haven’t given blood in a long long time. Last time I did so, I was a student at uni, and was turned away because I was anemic. I was a vegetarian at the time, and I felt very rejected, because there’s nothing more pitiful than fronting up for an act of altruism and being turned away due to bad blood.
But here it was. I’ve been thinking about becoming a blood donor for ages, but never seem to get around to it. Too busy writing.
As I grabbed my bag and keys, I popped two disprin for the PMS headache that was shrouding my eyeballs with a dull ache.
I got to the venue, feeling all noble and smiled at all the other noble folk who had put time aside to do something utterly selfless in this city that has been dubbed as the city of the haves and the have-yachts, and as one of the most spiritually impoverished by Oliver James in his book Affluenza. Sitting in that hall surrounded by young and old, I felt a bit of a lump in my throat as I considered that not all of humanity was a waste of oxygen.
I had to fill in five pages of medical history. I had to reveal that I’ve had a colonoscopy in the past six months, pneumonia twice in the past ten years, cold sores in winter… I also had to answer questions about whether I’ve had male to male sexual intercourse. Ever. Or with someone who may have had male to male intercourse. I felt confident resisting the temptation to call the hubby. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that, some of my best friends and so on…)
I was sure that with my colourful history of hospital visits, and the florid love affairs of my youth, I’d be turned away. But it was in my confession that I’d taken two disprin that morning that I nearly came undone. There was a lot of oohing and aahing and checking of data on computers. There were conferrals with the nurses. Shaking of heads. But George, the lovely man handing out the questionnaires returned with a massive grin on his sweet face telling me that though they wouldn’t be able to use my platelets, they’d just love my red blood cells.
So two hours later, massive bandage on my arm, and festooned with stickers saying ‘be nice to me… I gave blood today,’ I left feeling that despite the fact that I’d been useless on my laptop, that maybe my little bag of red blood cells will come in handy to someone who’d had a much rougher day than I had.
www.joannefedler.com
| 97 |
| Vote |
Subscribe to this blog
Comment by tlcorbin
Coffee Quip
A Global Citizen
Paranormal Paranormal
Is Why
Alaska Chronicle
Comment by Mrs M
Mum's Word
I'm curious. How do you feel since you've given blood? Do you feel nauseous or weak?
When I was pregnant with my first child, the blood bank came to our office and quite a few people gave blood...I couldn't because I was pregnant.
I saw about 6 people struggle for the rest of the day and most of them seemed sick or run down for a few weeks after giving blood.
It has really put me off giving blood....even though I know I should.
I also hate needles.
When I was in labour, it didn't matter how bad those contractions got, there was no way that epidural needle was going into my back
Love & stuff
Mrs M
Comment by Joanne Fedler
Secret Writers Business
Even better - I got a bag of chips, a mars bar and two cookies. And three complimentary bottles of water while I waited.
Mrs M, I felt FINE. No light-headedness, no nausea - and I was pre-menstrual. In fact I think the PMS headache had centre-stage for the day. Needles don't frighten me, and besides, as the docs always say, 'this will only be a little prick.' It also feels like a very small price to pay when you consider that it could be your child or best friend in a car accident desperately needing blood someday. Maybe I'm just trying to get some karma credit in here.
I had to take my my ten year old daughter with me, who asked me nervously as we pulled up outside, 'Do I have to give blood too?' (poor thing). She was more nervous than I was but after watching the whole thing she stated 'I think when I'm old enough, I'd like to be a blood donor too.'
I do have to say, at a time when I was feeling very sorry for my self, giving blood made me feel so much better.
Jo
Comment by Michaelie
Flick Wit
But then, like you, I became anaemic, then got a tattoo and did various other things that made me unable to donate (no male on male sex here either though) and just never got around to going back...
It's such a little thing to do though, that makes such a worthy contribution, and I should start again, especially as I am one of the lucky people who remains unaffected after donating.
Michaelie
Comment by Krystal
feelings
Comment by Joanne Fedler
Secret Writers Business
I've been trying to find things to do that make me feel better about being a person - know what I mean? I come from South Africa, and now live in Oz, and often feel disconnected from the suffering in the world, it is easy to forget the world and its pain - partly why we brought our little family over here in the first place, given how my family was personally affected by the violence in South Africa. So this seems like something really do-able for me. Like sponsoring a kid through World Vision, which is a bit more remote, as the money is on an automatic debit order. And being an organ donor which I won't be around to enjoy if it ever gets to that. If you have any other ideas about how one can just offer oneself in service to the community, I'd love to hear ... maybe I'll do a post on that topic one of these days. Thanks girlfriend, glad it's inspired you to go back to giving blood. Honestly, I felt on top of the world afterwards.
Hey Krystal - it was easy. And it felt so darn good. Took me out of my own self-pity and made my day more than just about me.
Thanks for visiting,
Jo