No Mad Cow in here...

I did it! I finally did it! And – better yet – they LET me do it! Weeeeeeeeeeee!

What did I do, you ask?

I gave blood on Sunday after church! Yey!

Since I haven’t been allowed to give blood since before I studied abroad in the year 2000, this is very exciting for me. The travel restrictions for blood donors have just recently been relaxed, so only people who have spent more than three consecutive months in Europe or the U.K. since 1995 are still barred at the present time. It used to be 1980 to the present day, though, which has kept me from giving for the better part of a decade (thanks to six months in London followed by three months traveling around Italy nearly nine years ago).

As you may remember from this post, when I tried to donate blood following my return to the United States in the fall of 2000, I was told that – thanks to a recent outbreak of Mad Cow outside of London – my blood would be turned down. Apparently, the gestation period for Mad Cow disease is seven years. Since no one had figured out exactly how the disease was passed to humans, my blood was being kept out of the system (lest I be a Mad Cow carrier and unwittingly pass it on to others).

My thoughts on this subject: Okay, fair enough.

True, I found it frustrating that I couldn’t help donate blood in times of need (not to mention disconcerting that the government was sort of waiting to see if my brain would turn to mush), but I have always been able to appreciate the need for a clean blood supply. So, I did the only thing I could do - wait patiently for the travel restrictions on blood donation to be relaxed. It took years, but finally did happen!

Even though I had read (and reread) the eligible donor information over and over on the web in the weeks prior to the blood drive at my church, part of me was still convinced that something would keep me from donating. This feeling was only exacerbated when it took forty-five minutes for me to get through my pre-donation screening. There were only two screening stations at the blood drive, and Melissa, Trevor and four or five other people got through their interview in less time than took for me to be approved. Apparently, the fact that I have traveled to Mexico, Grand Cayman and South Africa in the past three years raised some concerns. As Melissa put it, “Donating blood is much easier if you never go anywhere.” True that, Mel. True that.

Luckily, had I contracted Malaria during my African safari two years ago, it would have shown up by now. So, I was (finally) cleared to donate. Of course, by the time I got into the donation chair, Trevor and Melissa were nearly done - despite the fact that I had signed up for the earliest time slot. Then, just as they were about to stick me, another blood donor in the “recovery area” fainted. By the time they revived and checked the guy over for injuries, both Trevor and Melissa were finished donating and in recovery. Meanwhile, I was still waiting for my collection process to begin.

Once I got started, though, I did my best to hurry it along. I squeezed the little, yellow ball every two seconds instead of three (my lame attempt at filling the bag quickly). Trevor and Melissa, however, were too hungry to appreciate the fact that I was trying to my best to will my blood out of my body and into the donation bag as fast as possible. Their tummies were growling. Apparently, when you are hungry for brunch, an endless supply of post donation water, Gatorade, Nutter Butter Cookies and Oreos just doesn’t cut it. Alas!

About halfway through, the guy who fainted (who was now sitting next to me with his feet above his heart), asked me whether or not I had eaten prior to my donation that morning. He HAD eaten, although not very much. I, on the other hand, had overslept. Eating breakfast had never even crossed my mind as I rushed around getting ready for church. He seemed shocked by this news, and said something along the lines of, “Gee. I hope you don’t faint like I did.”

Luckily, I didn’t faint or even feel woozy after my donation was complete. Although, I barely waited the minimum amount of time in donor recovery before taking off. This was partially because Trevor and Melissa kept reminding me about how hungry they were and partially because if I did faint, I didn’t want to do it in front of the guy who already had (especially now that I felt like an idiot for not eating anything before hand).

Anyway, this entry is really pointless. I’m just glad I can donate again. Oh, and, well, that I don’t have Mad Cow and all. Not fainting was pretty good, too...

The End