Write for God

Before Mass this morning, my husband and I donated blood. It was easy, just about painless and took less than half an hour. Each of our pints will make a big difference to three patients in our community, as the phlebotomist told me. It cost us nothing; in fact, we walked out with coupons for two dozen doughnuts and free milkshakes plus two thermal travel cups. Blood banks always sweeten the deal, so to speak, even when you give for reasons other than free snacks.

It was apt that we started our day donating blood before Mass, when we Catholics remember the blood that Christ shed for us. Sitting in a comfortable lounger sipping apple juice while giving a pint of our blood doesn’t compare to the sacrifice of the Lamb, but it gave us the opportunity to reflect on the mystery of the Body and Blood outside of church.

I became a blood donor years ago as a way to conquer my fear of needles, which used to be severe. (When my husband and I had our blood tests before marrying in 1984, I almost passed out as I watched the needle going into his vein. An ammonia capsule brought me back.) By tying in overcoming my phobia with the higher calling of helping others, I was able to reconcile my fears with my desire to do good. I’m still not comfortable with the instant the needle goes in, but I pray and look away to cope. I have since found out that I have “rare blood” with antigens that aren’t common. A message on our answering machine last year urged me to donate immediately because a sickle-cell anemia patient in Puerto Rico who matched my profile needed blood to save his life. Of course, I gave.

Last fall, our 13-year-old daughter was injured in an auto accident and remained in a coma for five weeks. Blood donated by other people who cared helped her recover as their blood replaced what she was losing from collapsed lungs whose fluid drained from tubes for many days. I made a vow during those days that I would never again neglect to give blood each time I was eligible.

I will always picture someone else’s child in an intensive care unit needing a miracle to save his or her life. The pint that I gave today may save a loved one and a grateful family will thank me without ever meeting me. I will always be in debt to the strangers whose donations helped bring back our daughter. I will symbolically be giving for our daughter from now until I am no longer able.

Please consider becoming a blood donor to save lives in your community. The questions can be somewhat embarrassing, yes, and there’s that half-hour or so you’ll have to take into account, but those are negligible reasons not to give, if you’re fit to be a donor. You’ll feel good when you’re done and you will have made a life-or-death difference in the life of one of your fellow human beings.