What's Scary About Blood Donation?

19th of October 2008 was a unique day; the day I was called by the doctor to donate my blood to my ill mother. Before this date, I had neglected the idea of donating to my mother not because of any other selfish reasons but because I was scared for I have not donated blood before and secondly because I hate anything needle or injection. At first, I did not respond to my parents but after the Sunday Mass service in the church, I have to answer to call to come to the hospital to help out.

Like Jesus was filled with sorrows and grief in the Garden of Eden, I passed through the agony sweating and breathing heavy for fear that I would be hurt. But my prayer was, 'let your will be done o Lord'.

I went with my younger brother to the hospital and there we were tasted and screen. Charles was the first victim to have been tasted. I was shocked while the nurse injected the syringe in his left hand. But as a big brother, I summed courage to pass through same taste which Charles did not feel so much. His blood group was 'B+' which does not match with that of my mother. But then I knew I will be the sacrificial lamb for I am a through replica of my Mother. The strange syringe was used on my but then I closed my eyes in other not to see any thing blood. But later I saw my blood on the syringe.

Thank God for the caring mother (the nurse) for comforting me. She made it so easy that only knew when the syringe was out from my soft skin. Of course my blood group was 'B-' the same match with my mother. Then after I was screened of dreaded diseases like the HIV/AIDS and hepatitis. And that was the only opportunity I had to be screened; Thank God.

We proceeded into the blood bank room. 'Jesus I love you all I have is yours....' I kept reciting in my mind. I was asked to lie down on the lofty bed and before I could know it, the nurse had brought out the instruments to bleed me. This time around, it was my right hand. The syringe point was a bigger type unlike the previous. As usual she injected the syringe into one of the most lucid and broad vane of my right hand. I felt deep pains more than the former. It was then I knew that the adventure had started. When I opened my eyes, I saw the connections and how the blood flows down. Then the nurse gave me a bottle to hold in my arms so as to keep pumping the blood. I did that but then the pain increased. The nurse did her own pumping down there even though I did not see it but I felt it.

I was later relieved when she removed the syringe from my hand and then asked me to use the cotton wool to cover the cut area to cloth the skin. I could only donate one pint of blood because of my blood percentage. I was given a malt drink and canned liquid milk may be to regain strength and be fit before going back home. I feel like having a long sleep on the hospital bed; 'Thanks be to God it's over' I said. Then after, I was encouraged by my mother to feed very well and have enough rest. After some minuets, I have to go home with my younger brother Henry who too was afraid of injection. But at last I am very much happy to have passed through the adventure. At least I now know how it tastes.