One Student’s Take on the Blood Drive

Tim Desimone, News Editor

Entering the auditorium, I had to strain my eyes to see down the aisle and onto the stage. Once I had made my way closer, shapes emerged. Lawn Chairs, boxes of food, people in scrubs shuffling around. Some Key Club members sat waiting to sign people in. I introduced myself, and a minute later was sat in front of a computer, answering questions about myself. The touchscreen monitor with the still picture of a doctor smiling at me was watching me work.

“Have you left the country in the past three years?” Nope. “Please point out on the map where you donated blood in Europe.” I pushed the “Didn’t visit” option. “Where in Great Britain did you visit?” Once again, I hit the “I didn’t” button. “Where in Africa did you visit?”

After struggling for 5 minutes with questions about my night life and vaccine history, I was cleared to move on with my donation.

A Red Cross worker made his way over, checked my veins, made sure I wasn’t lying about my age, and then pricked my finger. He put the sample into a fancy looking machine hooked into his computer, and watched it spin around. I guess everything checked out, because I was then brought over to my final spot. I was told to sit in the lawn chair, and wait for a minute. Next to me, a worker was working the machinery on another student’s chair.

The chairs were placed in a square, every donor’s feet facing the middle. Some students were already hooked up, donating blood. My nurse introduced himself. He had a mumble and I couldn’t understand him, but he seemed nice. He asked me about my age, name, what I ate today, and then started medical work. After asking me twice if I was allergic to the disinfectant he was rubbing on my arm, it was time.

He mumbled something, I nodded like most people do when they have no clue what the other is saying, and then he went silent. I figured he was getting out a band aid or something. I was watching someone grab a cookie packet out of the food box.

Plot twist, it wasn’t a band aid, it was the needle. After holding back my emotions, trying not to make a face for the other people staring at me from the check in line, I gathered myself. I was ready to save lives. I hear some mumbling, and the nurse is playing with my arm. I hear the word vein. And then oops.

Nothing serious, he just couldn’t find a good vein. He took the needle back out of my arm, and then applied a band aid. He asked me to move to the lawn chair next to me, where he would try again on my left arm. Due to policy, he had to ask again, my name, age, and if I was allergic to the disinfectant he had rubbed on my arm five minutes before, and was about to apply again. This time I knew what was coming and the needle did not hurt much at all. He played with the bags and wires again, and I was left to wait.

It took less than ten minutes, and I felt fine the entire time. When I was done I grabbed some cookies and a muffin, and sat in the auditorium like I was supposed to do. I was walked back to class by a Key Club member, whose job was to make sure I didn’t faint and fall down the stairs or something. All in all, it was a fine experience, and it feels good to know that I made a difference in the world.

As I sat in spanish later in the day, I dreamed about all the people I had saved. How much of a champion I was. Then the intercom crackled. “Tim DeSimone to guidance”. Apparently the Red Cross had lost my permission form, and so my blood was unusable. After a call to my mom, a new form was run back down to the auditorium, and that was the last I heard of my blood. It will be checked for diseases, and then stored for later use. Along with the 70 other donors, from Western Albemarle High School.