Saving a Life

     I'm sitting here typing with the tell-tale signs of an apheresis donor:  two red plastic bandages wrapped around my two elbows.  In this process platelets are separated from the rest of your blood.  Why platelet donations?  They are desperately needed for people undergoing chemotherapy for one reason.   It takes three pints of whole blood to make one donation of platelets.  And because this process is so complex, fewer people take the time or make the drive to the center to do it.
     The procedure is a little freaky.  You sit in a recliner with a syringe in one arm sucking out blood.  It goes through a machine that looks like something out of Lost in Space where the platelets are separated out.  Platelets are collected in a plastic bag where they take on the distinct look of egg drop soup.  The blood is then infused with saline solution to make up the volume, and pumped back into your other arm through another syringe.  For me the whole process takes 100 minutes, and I can donate two servings. 
     During this time you cannot close your eyes because the staff needs to know you are awake and activating your squeeze toy to keep your vein open.  To pass the time you watch a movie.  If I'm lucky I watch one of my choice, a comedy.  If I'm not lucky, I watch what some guy requested which usually includes evil doings, violence, and a woman dressed in little more than lingerie.  I don't like being upset during a donation, preferring that my blood is as free from adrenaline as possible.  When I'm faced with the movies I dread, I just stare at the walls and try to meditate with my eyes open.
     Since you can't use your arms, you can't read, write, or even scratch your nose.  But the wonderful staff is very accommodating and will rub your nose with a piece of gauze if you need it.  Or, as in my case today, dry your eyes as you sit there weeping over some happy ending in a feel-good flick.  You don't get to eat or drink.  However, the chemical in the needle that is used to keep your blood from clotting can cause side effects:  itchy nose, dry mouth, numb lips, sleepiness, or nausea.  The cure?  Tums!  Just ask for them--regular or sugar-free--and you can have all you want.  They work like a charm.
     When it's all over you get to have a free lunch of your choice, beverages, snacks, and sometimes a thank you gift like a free oil change or gallon of ice cream.  I dread the T shirts though.  I had waaaaaay too many of those, and I rarely wear them.
     Does all of this seem really arduous to you?  It is.  Add to that the 45 minute drive up to the donation center, and I can devote half a day to this appointment.  It can be tedious as all heck.  Your arms ache, you fight drowsiness, and you are immobilized for almost two hours.  But then I think of a child undergoing chemotherapy who can't go out and play.  Or the middle-aged man who can't work because his cancer treatments make him too sick.  Then it doesn't seem so bad after all, and I remember why I'm doing this.  My first blood donation.  I was giving the standard pint of blood when a staff member asked what my type was.  "A positive. " "Good!"  she said.  "We were really low on that.  You're going to save someone's life today."  Her words hit me like a falling piano.  No amount of money, legislation, or good intentions can take the place of blood.  You have to open up a vein and share part of who you are with a total stranger.  Frankly, I can't think of anything more awesome than that.
     If you ever feel like you aren't doing much to save the world, let me invite you to come with me to the apheresis center in Farmington, CT.  And over the course of half a day, attached to freaky medical equipment, while snacking on Tums and watching a movie, you can actually save a life.  SAVE A LIFE!  Think about it.  How often do we get the chance to be brave and save a life?  This offer is real.  Contact me.  I'll get you through it.

Pax tecum