I Am a Blood Donor

Two nights ago, I donated blood for the first time. To be more specific and technical, I actually donated platelets (which I’ve been mistakenly calling placenta gaddemet). Now, I’m not very fond of science and I actually don’t know what platelets do exactly but at 4pm, I was asked what my blood type was and then next thing I know, I was at Cardinal Santos getting tested for AIDS. And other weird-ass diseases.

So here’s what happened. Someone who’s very dear to a good friend of mine was in the hospital and needed blood ASAP. He was informed that five O+ donors were needed so we gathered three to four other people and went straight to the hospital’s blood bank. Yassee, hospitals bore and depress the living hell out of me. Must be the smell of antiseptic, the dull paint on the walls or the nurses with unflattering clothes but my, oh my, that blood-donating experience was quite an adventure (and srsly full of LOLS).

Squeeeeze! Sqeeze hard on that ball, Kring! Draw that effing blood out!
Kei. That didn’t sound so… right.

First and foremost, we had to answer a form, which was rather funny and discriminatory at the same time. Apparently, you can’t donate blood – correction: platelets – if you’ve had sexual relations with people of the same sex in the last 18 months. WHAT. TEH. EFF. Ladlad will throw a fit if they ever find out about that. Also, there was a question about having been born or lived in Africa in 1977. I swear whoever came up with those questions was on crack. He probably knew what he was doing but he was on crack nonetheless. It actually made me secretly wish that a hospital/government agency would hire me to make those application forms for them. I’ll be sure to out-crack him!

Anyway, I kinda find it amazing (almost freakishly so, in fact) that out of the 5 of us who had the blood type, I was the only donor suitable to donate. One was rejected because he just donated blood less than 3 months ago. The other, because she had cough and sore throat. My friend was turned down because his veins are apparently hiding behind those damned muscles, hence, it would be hard to draw blood out or something (see? Being ripped doesn’t work for you all the time) and another didn’t even bother get tested because he’s gay. True story.

I can’t believe my mother was right again when she told me not to get tattoos and unnecessary piercings! Why do I always listen to her anyway?! And believe it or not, I’m quite healthy, too, at exactly 50kgs. If I had been a little lighter (or this happened a week earlier, when I was sick), I wouldn’t have been able to donate placentas, I mean, platelets.

My view from the chair. Hehehe. Dear blood donor, why do you look like a cheap whore while sharing your blood? In pekpek shorts at that. Not cool Kthnx.

So after having dinner at the company Christmas party, we left just while the program was starting because I was scheduled to donate at 10pm. We didn’t even say good bye to people because we were like, “Nah… this isn’t gonna take long! We’ll be back in an hour or so”. I even went there in my “sexy motorcycle racer” costume, which pretty much made me look like a hooker, ripped stockings and all. WTF were we thinking anyway? Just when we got there, we were told that the procedure will take a minimum of two hours. My eyes went like this @__@ and my expression was like this :-O and at this point I basically screamed, “HOW MUCH BLOOD DO YOU PLAN EXTRACT FROM ME?!?!” Just inside my head, of course.

I’m not particularly scared of needles but the fact that it was my first time didn’t help one bit. Oh, and whenever I would ask them about the pain, the nurses would just nonchalantly say that it would hurt, yes, albeit the pain is tolerable. Thanks for the assurance, gaiz! You could’ve lied a bit. >_>

Plateletpheresis, that’s what the procedure’s called. The needle they stuck inside my vein was as big as the ball point of a pen. And the freakin’ machine kept on beeping and saying “NO FLOW! NO FLOW!”, which annoyed me like no other. In fairness to the technology, it was made of fabulous! Imagine, the machine drew out my blood, processed it such that the red pigment was separated from the plasma or the liquid component. And then from that beer-colored plasma, it filtered out my platelets, which was the color of urine, and then everything else was pumped back to my body. AMEIZEENG!!! And I was laying down on that chair for almost four hours just to fill the bag (and to get a bag full of platelets, they must’ve drawn out about 12 packs of cold blood from me)!!! Mooooo. Oh, and did I mention it was pure, virgin blood? *wink wink* Precious it was indeed lol.

Machine of Win! There’s my plasma over there!

It was almost 2am when the process was finally completed. The nurse gave me a pack of Zesto juice right after (making sure I won’t sit up or I’d feel dizzy), which made LOL IRL because srsly, I thought that was just an urban legend. You know, that you’d be given Zesto right after donating blood. And because we basically missed the entire Christmas party, our office mates were nice enough to drop by and hand us our gifts and prizes (bitch, I won an oven toaster). The night ended lovely. At 6am, the person who needed the platelets was brought to the operating room.

Some may think that what I did was kind and brave and whatnot, and maybe, it was… But honestly, when you are asked to do something like that, you just don’t think twice anymore, not even bat your lashes. It’s someone’s life and health on the line and if you were in my shoes, wouldn’t you have done the same thing? That’s but human nature and we are human beings. And I really really hope that my platelets helped the person get better… somehow.

When you are given the opportunity to help, take it. It’s good for the soul.

Merry Christmas, everyone! Let’s not forget the real essence of this season! Let’s all spread happiness, beauty and love. Time for some rest and relaxation for me! ^_^ *mwah mwah*

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