My Last Blood Donation.

[athelind]

Okay, I've always been a little squeamish -- in no small part due to an accident when I was four or five, one that involved arterial bleeding and left me with a scar at my hairline.

Despite this, I've tried to donate blood regularly, because my A-negative blood type is one of the rare ones, and because I have those Heinleinian notions of Duty and Honor and Paying It Forward. Due to life, scheduling conflicts, ill-timed colds and the occasional overwhelming attack of squeamishness, I don't always manage to give every eight weeks, but since moving up here in 2003, I've gotten my gallon pin.

I've gotten through it largely through sheer force of will, clamping down on the part of my brain that wanted to scream like a little girl. This was helped in great measure by the staff at the Blood Center in Cupertino, who managed the process relatively painlessly and had my complete trust.

Well, at least until recently. A combination of factors has managed to, well, basically traumatize me.

1. About 75% of the time after my recent donations, I've come down with bad colds that segued into bronchitis. That's probably linked to starting new temp jobs right around the donation time, and subjecting a depressed immune system to a new infection environment. quelonzia's just flat-out convinced that "giving blood makes me sick".
   
   
2. I think I've gotten the same person the last three times I've donated, and she's caused me Extreme Pain every time she's jabbed me with a needle. The first time, she missed the vein (which is, according to every other donation nurse and phlebotomist who's ever had to deal with my circulatory system, rather like missing California while traveling west from Nevada). The last two times, the needle was accompanied by Extreme Burning Sensations that were apparently due to rubbing alcohol finding its way into my vein. The techs on duty just shrugged that off, but, you know, that never used to happen. A jab, yes, but not agonized burning. And... you know, rubbing alcohol is Not To Be Taken Internally.
   
   
3. Today, however, was the clincher. I went in for my 12:15 donation appointment, and, as I was filling out my questionairre, got to the question that asked, "Have you taken any products containing aspirin in the last 36 hours?"
   
   Aspirin, for those who don't know, has anti-coagulant properties in addition to all its other virtues. It interferes with clotting.
   
   Since I'd taken apsirin at 2 pm the previous day (less than 24 hours before), I marked that "yes", and, during the pre-donation interview, pointed it out to the nurse, who waved it off and said, "That's okay."
   
   It most assuredly was not okay.
   
   I waited the usual six hours after donation to remove the pressure bandage, looked at the needle site, and sat down at my computer... then looked again, and saw fresh red.
   
   I have literally had nightmares about this. I freaked just long enough to get my stepdaughter to help me get more gause and another bandage on the site, and, as I've done so many times before, spent the next few hours clamping down on my reaction and Not Thinking About it.
   
   When Quel finally got home (it's her Late Work Week this week) and we went into the bathroom to check the site again, all of the clamped-down panic and squeamishness of years of donation (and a few years of hospital work thrown in for good measure) broke free. Panicked breathing, trembling, classic stress reaction. The site was, in fact, pretty much healed over at the time, but the realization that it was almost certainly due not just to the aspirin I'd taken the previous day but their willful disregard for that information....

I'm done with it. I can't do this anymore. I could bull my way through my phobias based on my trust that the people I was dealing with were competant, capable professionals, and they've completely lost that trust.

If there's a shortage of A-negative, or another Katrina-sized disaster, I'll donate. But, given my druthers, I'll find another location to do it, with different people.

And it's gonna take a while for me to muster up the willpower.



EDIT:And many, many thanks to the Fire of my Heart for keeping me calm and reassuring me and holding me during my freak out.

Comments

[araquan.livejournal.com]

*winces* Ouch. >.<

*hugs*

[luxatos.livejournal.com]

I wish I could donate... but there are more than a couple qualifiers that rule me out as a donor. Strangely, none involve disease (I'm clean)... except that there's the dreaded POTENTIAL for disease. Funny how some risky behaviors (like habitually licking doorknobs) won't disqualify a person, though.

[athelind.livejournal.com]

That's actually another of my motivations for donating -- because so many of my friends CAN'T, because of "Risky Behavior".

[xylen.livejournal.com]

Heh. I can't give blood myself because I'm an extreme needle-phobic.

[velvetpage.livejournal.com]

You might want to write a letter to the clinic where this happened and tell them what disregarding the aspirin has cost you and them.

I've been either pregnany or ;actating for much of the last four years, and as a result, they've stopped calling to ask for my blood. It's a shame - I'm O-, the universal donor, so they always need me.

[hitchkitty.livejournal.com]

My spouse used to be a regular blood donor, largely because of the number of transfusions she received when very young.

Now, however, she can't donate. Because she spent a year in the UK during Mad Cow Season.

Nevermind that she's never shown any symptoms, and as far as I know, didn't actually consume any beef while there. I keep wondering when the statute of limitations on that one will expire.

And yes, the whole "risky behavior/lifestyle" issue. Was remarking once to a friend-once-removed that, because of his exquisitely muscled forearms and the prominent veins therein, the Red Cross would probably love to make his acquaintance. But, like so many of my associates, there's that one little detail that bars him from donating.

Which is a real pity, since they'd have a much easier time finding HIS veins than they do MINE.

I'm terrified of needles.

[snobahr.livejournal.com]

Terrified. I will be a crying ball of weepiness in a dentist's chair, without a good, thorough application of laughing gas. I can't look when they do a blood draw at the doctor's office.

I've had some great phlebotomists, too. The nurse at my GP's office has no problem finding my vein, we crack jokes the whole time, she apologizes when the needle goes in and we continue cracking jokes.

I am so very sorry about your experience.

[athelind.livejournal.com]

That's not a bad idea. I'll probably use this post as the basis, just clean it up a little.

[jirris-midvale.livejournal.com]

The one time I had blood drawn for a blood test it was one of the most horrible experiences in my life. I told the nurse that I was very, very uncomfortable with the idea of my blood being drawn. From a rational standpoint, I knew that he was doing a good job. It didn't really hurt that much and he found the vein very easily. Needles don't bother me at all, and infact, I like going to the dentist. I just hate seeing my own blood.

This terrifying irrational rage welled up in me. All of a sudden I was incredibly furious and I just wanted to punch the guy because he was drawing my blood. I sat there and gripped the armrest with my free arm and did my best to try and calm down. He wanted to take more, but I wouldn't let him. He understood (he looked rather uncomfortable when my emotions came pouring out), I apologized, and we went on our way.

That being said, I don't know if I can deal with giving blood. Everytime I see a bloodmobile, I feed so incredibly guilty for not going in.

[cpxbrex.livejournal.com]

Dood, if you can nerve yourself up to do it again, uh, go to a different center! And definitely find out to whom to complain and do that. I mean, OK, I can SORTA see that once some alcohol gets in -- but twice? In a row? Along with great pain as they look for a vein? Something's up. The simplest way of handling it -- if you can handle it -- is to go somewhere else to give.

Hehe. I was doing double red one time and when they took out the needle there was a spurt, like, two feet up, but it was OK in fifteen minutes. Adrienne gave and it bled for a whole day afterwards. These things also just sorta happen -- I'd be more worried about the bad needle puncher and the reasonably common occurence of, y'know, burning pain and that.

[thoughtsdriftby.livejournal.com]

Both the blood loss and added stress would lower your immune system. As for your experiences it seems not too different at Stanford. One of the trainees not focusing on getting good but just putting in her time. I've had to talk to a couple over the years. One trying to rush and another with a bad case of shakes. Seem to make people nervous.

Donating blood should only be a positive experience. One gallon is quite generous for anyone, so only donate if it feels right from now on, not as an obligation for other peoples actions/lifestyles. It's one of the can't save the world problems, only bits and pieces. If you decide to donate again talk to the head nurse, that they need to take good care of you if they want you to come back. Other than that find out who you know that shares your blood type, in case of an emergency (O+ myself).

[athelind.livejournal.com]

As soon as I can get settled down, I'll look for another donation center.

However, the phrase "spurt, like, two feet up" has just DOUBLED the time it's gonna take me to get settled down. AUUUUGH!!

[cpxbrex.livejournal.com]

I was trying to be reassuring! That such things are not, really, that big a deal. D'oh!

[r-caton.livejournal.com]

Me I coagulate beautifully. What screws me is finding time from the repair bench inbetween phone calls and working with a JW - to give him his due I reckon he'd refuse input as much as output.
O Negative. And I don't lick doorknobs or any other...*thwack*

Hmm.

[animakitty.livejournal.com]

Awful experience, when they can't find the vein. "Please don't dig around in my arm. Please. Stop. STOPPIT!" 9,9

I spent three months in Africa back in '94, and apparently that really freaks out the donation folks, so I gave up for quite awhile. I guess I should try now that it's been so long.

Good luck finding a place with more skillful and less negligent staff. x,x