Please take (plenty of) time to give blood

DOVER-FOXCROFT — The first time I gave blood was in college, weeks after 9/11 when the American Red Cross held a blood drive on campus.
Not knowing what I was getting myself into — or how much time it would take me to answer all 50 questions and fill out the paperwork, let alone fill the plastic bag and head out — I popped in at the blood drive before class on a whim and donated. It felt good to help out, but having to rush off to lecture and climb up the University of Wisconsin’s picturesque Bascom Hill a unit of blood short left me a little woozy after the hike and wishing I had taken the Red Cross up on that free pizza and juice they were offering up to students.
Eight years later, a sign on the corner of North and Summer streets on Wednesday afternoon had me thinking again about donating to the Red Cross. It’s been long overdue and something I’ve wanted to do on a regular basis ever since I moved to Maine.
Again, I did this on a whim, with no regard to how long the process takes. I only had an hour before I had to be somewhere, but figured it would only take 10 minutes for me to give a unit of blood for a good cause and get out the door.
Fat chance.
While I am all for donating blood because our hospitals throughout the nation need it to help patients, the 50 questions about a person’s overseas travels and — um … “extracurricular activities” — was just a little unnerving to answer to, at least to a complete stranger. However, I had nothing to hide with these questions and it’s for a good cause so I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing at some of the inquiries and answered everything truthfully.
After all the paperwork was filled out, questions answered and blood tested for iron levels, I was finally led to a table in the Morton Ave. Municipal Gymnasium to give blood. The clock at my feet said 1:25 p.m., just 35 minutes before I was expected in Guilford. If everything worked out right, I could easily make it there in time.
The Red Cross staff did a great job that afternoon helping out those that walked through the door, but I realized pretty fast this would not be a quick process. I, like most people, looked away when they shoved the needle into the vein protruding from the inside of my right elbow. Just six minutes later, time spent staring either at the ceiling and the clock at my feet, the bag was full.
1:45 p.m. was when I finally made the “recovery table” in the gym, stacked with Red Cross T-shirts, cookies, chips, juice and water. I considered grabbing a bottle of water and making my way out the door, but then I remembered that walk up Bascom Hill all those years ago and decided it would be best to listen to the medical professionals and take a seat — at least for a minute or two.
I’m now counting down the 56 days until I can donate again. Maybe next time I’ll block off more than 45 minutes for the donation — and bring a book to read too.