Bleed Me Dry

Still fresh from Intrams, I was not ready to go to school yet. The previous week had gave such a lot of excitement. From the games to the dance competition, last week was really a blast.  But as fun as it was, it had to end and be revisited again next year.

My 450 mL of blood

Class had not started on time, which was only dragging everything along. When the teacher got to the room, there was no projector he could use. So, he assigned us to topics to report on another day. With less than an hour until my break started, the group planned out whatever we had to do for the report. And with that, my break had begun. With the impulse of a bored irregular student, I went to Red Cross to donate blood.

Blood donation was always a thing I had always wanted to do. And almost a year ago, I had done it. With the benefits of renewal of your RBCs and giving your blood out to those who really need it, there was no bad side to donating. Well, there is the pain of course. But, we'll get to that later.

The lady who bled me my first time I donated had given me a card to keep. The card was a small yellow paper with my name. It served as a record for how many times I've donated blood. The card collected dust for the most of the past year, but I had put it back in my wallet because I had the thought of donating more blood.

A week or two ago, a friend posted a status on facebook asking who were blood type B+ because her mom needed a transfusion. And seeing that I was healthy and eager to donate blood, I quickly responded. A day had been planned to finally go and get myself bled, but things didn't go well. I ended up not donating blood that day, another person had donated. And today, the mom is out of the hospital.

I would've donated a lot sooner, but the lady told me they were only open to blood donations on Mondays. Any other day, you would have to schedule an appointment or something. And for a while then, I had no time to go out from school on Mondays. But come my first semester of being an irregular student, I was finally available to donate blood.

Red Cross was a small building beside the Cebu Public Library, a landmark always associated with the facility. The distance between the school was not far. But after discussing it with some friends, I opted to take a ride going there because I might not be able to donate if I looked remotely fatigued.

There were steps to follow before donating blood. I remembered there only being three. What the steps say, I cannot recall.

First, I had to read a piece of paper. It stated the things I can't have done if I were to continue with the process. The most prominent rule of not being able to donate is having HIV, a rule I found appropriate. It also mentioned things about having a piercing or tattoo which were more or else standard.

After, they gave me a form. I had to check if the scenarios applied to me. Questions on the form were in a form of yes/no. It had questions like if I had cancer, or if I had drank alcohol within the past few days. Most of my answers were no, but I had ticked yes on lung problems and leaving the country. Leaving the country proved to be a problem when they had to ask a superior if I was able to donate, seeing that I left the country for a month or so. But it was quickly resolved and I was back on my way through the steps.

The only thing I had truly hated my first time donating was the lancet. The lancet was a small pin used to prick a finger so they could get a blood sample to determine my blood type and whether or not I was anemic. I had to relive this moment again earlier, and it hurt like hell.

After a quick check-up from the doctor there, I was ready to be bled. The place to do the bleeding was in a van parked outside the facility, which would have easily passed as a front for a small drug cartel. (But it's not, I think it important to mention that.) The reason probably for that was because the seats were reclined and they had arm rests.

So, I sat down and laid my arm on the rest. The person in charge of bleeding me quickly placed a pillow under my elbow and applied alcohol and betadine (povidone iodine) to make sure the wound would not be infected. She reached down to her kit and got the bag, the one where my blood goes, and attached to the end of it, the needle which was considerably long and thick.

She put on the tourniquet on my upper arm and searched for my vein. After she had located it, it was time to insert the needle. As she forced the needle onto my skin, the pain was a kind of weird. The oozing blood didn't help. The blood didn't go through the tube and into the bag. Instead, it spewed outwards and towards my white uniform, a thing that did not happen during my first time. The medical technician apologized and rushed to find a superior who had applied it properly. Things like that tend to happen when the vein gets hit directly, she said.

The actual bleeding took up to almost a half hour. I was given another sticker for my yellow card, a pack of orange juice and a band aid. After the whole process, I was told to sit back awhile so I wouldn't faint when I stood up. Well, I thought so. The guilty conscience of the lady made her clean my uniform. They had applied a NSS (normal saline solution) to rid the stain which worked. Clearly, they've done this before. One of them even said Hydrogen Peroxide would've worked better. Clearly. But in all fairness, they were nice. All of them were. A trait probably acquired from bleeding a person.




When I got back to school, I felt light headed. They had warned me to not look down as it would cause dizziness and/or nausea. But I urged on, school would end in a couple of hours anyway. Lunch was weird, things were happening that might have been caused by my blood loss. Either they really were, or my friends are assholes.

During my last class of the day, bored out of my mind, I challenged my friend to a game of chess. This friend of mine was a really good player having competed in the Milo Little Olympics when she was younger and in the school's own Intramurals. I had never beaten her ever since my liking to play better at chess. Until today.

The move that caused her downfall was really just her own fault. She had left her queen to be eaten by mine. Even without a queen, she still fought ferociously. But I proved victorious, if only the one time I would have been able to do so. Feeling robbed, she challenged me to another game. She won, but the feeling of winning against a better player never got away from me.

So, today I donated blood which inevitably gave me superpowers to win at chess.

It was a good day.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If one donates a total of 9 times with the yellow card, he is called a galloner. After that, he may be able to donate every two months, rather than the usual three month gap.

New goal: Be a galloner.

Those living in the Cebu area who are willing to donate, healthy, and above 50kgs may be able to donate blood at the Red Cross office, beside the Cebu Public Library.