Ever since a blood drive was held at my high school years ago, I had wanted to donate. Honestly the main reason why I had wanted to donate was because I wanted to find out my blood type which I have wanted to know for ages. I remember I had confidently grabbed the permission packet and flipped through it excitedly. But all too soon, my ability to save lives came to a shattering halt when I read of the weight requirements. I was too light. I didn’t weigh enough.

Thoroughly discouraged I had dejectedly given the packet to a friend, who, a few weeks later, walked late into class with a purple bandage around her arm. At the time, I had accepted my fate as being unable to donate blood for the rest of high school, sadly telling anyone who would listen how much I wanted to but couldn’t, and always feeling a bit sour whenever the blood drive trucks came around.

Come around my freshmen year (last year) at UCI, after finding out that they had a blood donation center that allowed walk-ins, and finally being 18 and able to sign my own permission forms, I decided to try to donate again. I had filled out all the forms and was taken into the back room by a nurse. Excited and a bit nervous, she started asking me questions. And that’s when my dreams were shattered, once again. With scaleless dorms, I wasn’t exactly sure how much I weighed. I think I’m 110 pounds! I told her. But she told me I had to be absolutely sure, (I was probably shy a few pounds, tbh). And so I left the donation center, turned down again.

So the many months passed. I grew a lot, slept a lot, and ate a lot. And when I went home to weigh myself over Thanksgiving, I FINALLY met the weight requirement. Not that I was trying to gain weight just to donate though. (Which made me kind of sad when I realized that I had packed on a couple of pounds just because of my eating habits :’( Seeing those bright red numbers gave me the “a-ok” signal. I had the freedom to donate blood if I so pleased!

And so I did. I wanted to start off the new year with something different. Accomplish something that I had always wanted to do. And find out my blood type! With no classes on the first day of winter quarter and with nothing to do, I decided in the spur of the moment that I was going to do it.

The procedure was the same as when I first tried to donate. You are to answer some questions in private, and then get examined by a nurse in a room. The nurse went over the questions I had answered, and screened them to make sure I was a suitable donor. She had asked me why I had been deferred to donate before, to which I told her I didn’t weigh enough. And how much do you weigh now? She asked, pen in hand. I answered that question very confidently.

She then pricked my finger and squeezed out a tiny, bright red blood droplet into a small well on microscope slide, in order to see if I had enough iron in my blood. This was very cool because there is a little machine the size of a small book right inside the room. Placing the slide into the machine, it only took a few seconds for my blood to be determined sufficient in iron. After that, she took my pulse, temperature, blood pressure, the whole shabang.

Honestly, in the moment I still wasn’t really aware of everything that was going on and I didn’t even have my mind on the fact that a needle was going to be stuck in my arm just minutes later. You’ll find that if you know me well enough, I am a very impulsive person, and I often do before thinking. The thinking comes after the doing. Like that time I bought a fish at Walmart, but that’s another story.

After everything checked out, she then led me to a chair, much like a chair you would find at the dentist. I helped myself into it, and she instructed me to roll up my sleeve and began cleaning the withdrawal site with iodine, an orange chemical for sanitation. After placing a wrap around my arm and swelling it like a balloon in order to make my veins pop and become more prominent, she then told me to look away if I wanted to because she was about stick the needle into my arm. I looked away- I’m squeamish about watching sharp objects get inserted into skin, much less my own blood vessels...

There was a bit of a pinch and then the needle was in. It wasn’t exactly painful, but it was a bit uncomfortable. I tried not to think too much of a large needle stuck in my arm. Taking a small peek, I was shocked to see how quickly my blood was coming out. It looked just like the blood you see in the movies and TV shows, a dark red color. The two tubes that it flowed into were transparent and laid across my wrist, to which I could feel warmth. Cool! I thought. That’s my blood! I tried not to think about it too much or else I would have grossed myself out.

The nurse had given me a little blue stress brain to squeeze periodically in order to help the blood flow out. While squeezing, I read some of the statistics displayed across a screen monitor in front of me.

Here are some of the facts I learned:

• By donating blood you can save up to three lives
• A baby has only about 2 cups of blood in his/her body (I thought this was interesting)
• The average adult has about 20 cups of blood
• When you donate you donate about 2 cups of blood

And then, many facts and eight minutes later, I was done. The nurse congratulated me, saying that eight minutes was the average time, and then yanked out the needle, which brought a small tear to my eye (ouch!!). She then had me apply pressure to my arm, and then swiftly wrapped my arm with a hot pink bandage. My only regret was I didn’t get to see and take a picture with my blood bag.

You’re required to stay for fifteen minutes after donation. During this time I helped myself to snacks and took the time to update my friends and family on what I had just done. People asked me how I felt, and honestly, I didn’t feel that much different. It’s hard to describe; it was if a little bit of energy had been sapped from me. (Leech seed anyone? Ha ha ha...)

I left after my fifteen minutes were up, feeling very accomplished. And later that night, I treated myself to ice cream, because my body needed sugar right? And my arm felt fine the next day!

Although it took a few years (and a few pounds), I was glad that I was finally able to donate. It was something small that I could do to help those in need.

Donating blood? Check.

Still haven’t found out my blood type yet though lol...