I had expected a slow day off. As I walked out sleepy-eyed to take a phone call, our door opened and my friend Maggie was outside. “Come on Coles, I need you in C ward. I know you’d rather give blood than sleep!”I mumbled something about putting on clothes and started chugging water, as much water as I could get down, and eating whatever we had in the room on the way there.
10 minutes and a liter of water later I was watching my blood flow through one huge needle into the familiar blood collection bag on the round metal scale. Since my bunkmate Anna had been woken up also she came along as photographer, water caddy, and thoughtfully held pressure on the hole in my arm so I wouldn’t bruise after. Maggie signed my bandage in sharpie, and I was good to go!
There’s something strangely special about holding your own warm blood in your hands, to watch the patient improve and see a hematocrit rise knowing that those are your cells being counted too. It’s a personal, tangible impact in a life, and one that gets me every time.
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