More Than I Bargained For

Here we are, day 2, and I already tried something new and way outside of my comfort zone.

Today is my dad's birthday. He loves donating platelets and he's always after the rest of our family to give blood. My stake just happened to be having a blood drive today, so I decided to donate blood for the first time as my birthday gift to him. Oh, what an adventure we had.

Before I get into the story, I'd like to share a few things I learned from the experience. 1. Eating a full meal before donating is very important. 2. Drinking water and being well hydrated before donating is very important. 3. Don't turn down the Red Cross workers when they offer you snacks and drinks.

Based on those three things, you can probably guess what happened today. No, I didn't pass out, but I came very, very close. The needle was much bigger than I was expecting (anyone who tells you that donating blood is similar to having your blood drawn is lying) and of course I made the mistake of watching it go in (because I had been told donating blood = blood draw and I'm totally fine with having my blood drawn). I got a strong head rush as soon as that needle slid into my vein. I got nauseous after a minute or two, then very nauseous. They had to lay me down and give me cool, wet cloths to put on my forehead and neck. I was so hot and clammy and sweaty and I couldn't wait for it to be over. 

Angels do exist, my friends, and some of them exist in the form of the Red Cross phlebotomists. I was so blessed to have the cutest phlebotomist at my side pretty soon after I got really nauseous. She talked to me so that I wouldn't pass out and got me juice and pretzels and she was just so sweet. Bless her, bless her, bless her. My poor dad was in the middle of a meeting over the phone (he arranged it so he could come with me to the donation appointment) and was trying to help me out while paying attention to the meeting. Nevertheless, I'm so glad he came with me.

I made it through giving a whole pint of blood. There was no way I was going to end the donation early if it meant that they couldn't use my blood (I didn't know that was a thing either until today), so I stuck it out. I'm so glad I did, but mostly I'm so, so glad it's over so that I never have to do it again. (Never say never, of course, but those are my current feelings about donating blood.)

There is photographic proof that I donated, but for now I don't think the internet needs to see me in all of my white-as-a-sheet, I-look-like-a-corpse glory. Maybe if you ask really nicely I might think about showing it to you. Unless, of course, you get to my dad first. 

Happy birthday, dad. Thanks for pushing me to do something totally outside of my comfort zone that might actually help to save lives. You're pretty great, and I'm so blessed to have you as my dad.