There are a few things I wanted to do for my 16th birthday, like everyone else I wanted to get my drives permit... but I also wanted to donate blood. After hearing stories about him much of a difference it could make, it was all I wanted to do! I found a blood drive about 20 minutes away from my house, so off my mom and I went! First appointment they had of they day I was there (and yes on my birthday)! I spent the week beforehand getting ready- drinking copious amounts of water and consuming iron like a machine. I did everything I possibly could. It wasn't enough, but I guess it wasn't my fault... I just did not weigh enough. I cried on the way home because I wasn't able to give away something that I had so much of, that would literally go to save someones life.

A few weeks later my high school was hosting a blood drive! I was going to do it this time! I ate so much junk food in the days leading trying to pack on a few extra pounds, but I guess It wasn't the right stuff. I passed the weight requirement this time, but it came time for the finger prick and my hemoglobin was low. It was my strike two

My next try came a few months later. And I did it! I donated! They poked around in my small veins and finally got a steady stream (slow and small stream to be exact) of blood trickle out of my body. And it all goes well... until I got overly excited and stood right up. I was sweating, freezing cold, had pins and needles all over... and then everything starts to sound like your under water. Next thing you know, your laying down somewhere covered in cool towels and ice packs.

But I did it.

Fast forward to the next fall and I did it again! And it went better- but still not perfect. Maybe It didn't go perfectly... to put it mildly, but I did it. I might have just saved someones life for all I know.

Fast forward another few donations to just this past week. I was having a pretty awful day. I NEEDED to do something to help someone else out. All I can say is no one has ever had so much trouble finding a damn vein. But after being poked and prodded, and a little bit of chills and some other reactions to watch for, I had done it! I donated.

Maybe every time I donate it does not go as well as most other peoples- but to me it is important. Like do it like clock work important. Like every eight weeks important. Each and every time, my body does something to tell me that maybe I should not do it, but out there I am sure there is someone who is happy I did it.