Sunday 30 November 2008

Donating Blood is like the Decathalon!

Here is a little story from a couple of years back. It is the tale of my first ever trip to the blood donation clinic. What should have been a straightforward jab-and-extract turned into an absolute chore. Enjoy!!



I'll start by stating that I am not now, nor have I ever been, afraid of needles or blood or anything like that. I suppose I've just been too lazy to get out and do it until now.

I was at home sitting watching a bit of the Spain -v- Ukraine match when my mother informs me I had to drop the car down to her at work so that she could head straight to golf after work (how posh are we?!). As I'm heading out the door, my dad says "Hey, while your down there, you might as well give blood!"...

Thanks Dad!

So off I went, on my merry way! I had never given blood before so I reckoned it should be a bit of a laugh! WRONG! As I arrived in the door, one of the biggest men I have ever seen calls me over and tells me to "Sit". Now, it was about this time that I began looking around for the nearest exit, what with Arnie here treating me like his German Shepherd and knowing that at some point in the next hour a huge fucking needle was going to enter me!!!!

"Name?"
"Date Of Birth?"
"Address?"
"The date of birth is the most important part so repeat to confirm it please!"

I got the feeling small talk wasn't this guy's thing!

Having scraped over this first hurdle (It's funny, ever since underage drinking, I have trouble giving my real DOB!), I was handed a what could only be described as a 'Lengthy Questionnaire' to fill in....! Madness!

I sit down and start browsing through the tick-the-box style questions, and then start ticking.

No
No
No
No
Yes No
No
No....etc, etc.


HOLD ON!


All of a sudden, there is before me one of the weirdest questions I have ever seen!

Q: Have you a particularly hazardous occupation?

Now, on it's own, this question wouldn't have been that ridiculous. BUT, the good people of the...eh...Blood Donor Corporation (never caught the name) had decided to give us an example, so the question read:

Q: Have you a particularly hazardous occupation? (e.g. Bus Driver)


...eh...


Okay. Let's get one thing straight right here and now. In no way, am I having a go at the profession of bus driving. I for one am a firm believer in public transport and have on many occassions availed of the service. I also find bus drivers to be a very friendly and jovial bunch of people for the most part. BUT....

....but I have to go on record that I don't feel that bus drivers (other than the double deckers in London a few months back) have a 'particularly hazardous occupation'. No offence fellas! Now, had they used any of the examples I had come up with...

- Knife Juggler
- Fire Eater
- Crash Test Dummy
- Bungee Cord Tester
- Lab Rabbit
- Gary Glitter Impressionist

...the question would have actually made a bit more sense! Besides, as an actor, one may be called upon to portay a bus driver or indeed something equally hazardous such as a gardener or calendar maker. But hey, it's not as though I'm hung up about it! Answer: No.

So, moving on with the questionnaire. It all seemed to be fairly normal.....


HOLD ON!


Right at the end, two fairly surprising and controversial questions stand there glaring at me!

Q: Have you ever been given money for sex?

Thank God they phrased it that way! I mean, they didn't seem interested in knowing if I'd ever PAID for sex....Lucky me!! Answer: NO.

Q: (If you are male) Have you EVER had oral or anal sex with another man, with or without the use of a condom? IF YOU ANSWER YES YOU MAY NOT GIVE BLOOD.


Wow!


I hadn't felt this shocked since the end of The Crying Game! (Actually, that is a great film. Watch it after you read this!)


I had no idea that gay men weren't allowed give blood. Now to be honest, this question didn't apply to me but all the same, I did feel a little aggrieved on behalf of the Gay community.

I mean, in all fairness, a guy has oral sex with another guy - he's gone for life....BUT a girl who has prescribed herself 50 wangs a day has the freedom to pop in whenever she likes! The logic was somewhat lost on me I'm afraid. I was nearly going to answer 'Yes' as a silent protest, but my Dad was just behind me...And I didn't fancy having to explain why I was being asked to leave! Answer: No.

With the second hurdle now overcome, it was on to "The Interview". Basically, this consisted of a woman sitting me down and asking me MY DATE OF BIRTH, then every one of the 50 questions I had just answered again but this time, she'd check that they matched what I had written! Pressure!

C+. I passed. Moving on.

Next hurdle. Iron count. Seriously, at this point I'm about to ask this girl "Look, do you want my blood or not?!?". Honestly, I'd say they don't have this many tests at a sperm bank!!!

She proceeds to ask me MY DATE OF BIRTH, then tells me "A man must have an iron count of at least 13 so what we do is just check you first to see if you are able to don*PRICK*ate!

OWWWW! Why is it that the tiny, sneaky ones are always the most painful??! Now I am ready to leave, in a huff I may add. So far, I've been bullied, interrogated and beaten up and all I have to show for it is a blood-soaked index finger! Anyway, result comes in - 14.6...."You may proceed to the donation area".

ABOUT.

DAMN.

TIME!


Next, and surely the final hurdle was the act of giving blood! Funny thing is, the assistants up at the donation table are so ridiculously friendly, I'm more nervous than ever! I'm convinced my sheet says "Take It All" or something! Anyway, we just had to wait for the doctor before putting the needle in so she kills the tinme by asking me MY DATE OF GOD-DAMN BIRTH.

Mental note: Waiting for someone to jam a needle into your arm sucks! All these thoughts start running through your mind.

What if the needle breaks?
What if my blood is bad?
Where do Gay people go instead of blood donation clinics?
What were the names of the bad guys in Superman 2?

All of a sudden, the doctor arrives. Here's the mad thing-----If having the correct date of birth is so bloody important, then why did the only medically trained person in the whole building not give a rats ass??? ANSWER ME THAT!

As I stated earlier, it's not that I'm afraid of giving blood or needles, it's just that I couldn't really be bothered before. I actually love hearing people tell me how afraid of needles they are because I just make fun of them for being cowards. NO MORE!

The doctor pulls out, what looked to me like a hollowed out knitting needle and for some strange reason, looked as though he wanted to put it in my arm! Seriously, it looked to be about the circumference of a chopstick! Not good. Not good at all!

BAM! In it goes. and blood just starts running through the hose. I'm trying my best to act like I'm totally used to this after 'Nam but I'm pretty sure the girl knows I'm slightly freaked out!


5 minutes later....


ALL DONE. Bam, biff, bop. Needle out, plaster on, pushed off bed. The funniest thing of the day was about to happen though. I was fine and would have liked to just head on home but she turns to this woman and says "He's a Firster!" "Oh right" is the reply. I hadn't a clue wht that meant so off I popped.

So, I'm asked to have a drink and something to eat. I decide that I wouldn't mind a nice 7-Up and a Timeout so take a seat at the table...

"Was this your first time?"

"Yeah."

"Then would you sit over here instead?"

"Sure. Sorry."

She walks me past all the people at the table and sits me on a little bed in the corner with all the weedy girls and people who are after fainting. It seems this is indeed the final hurdle. I'm now wondering how long I have to sit next to people who look like, if they saw blood, would vomit all over me.

After about 10 minutes, I decide to leave. Everyone from the table was given pens, pencils and other little tidbits. We in the reject corner are just ushered out silently....

But hey, don't let this put you off....

Give Blood. Save Lives. Just watch out for little pricks (especially if you're gay).

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