Giving Blood (With a phobia of needles!)

So, you guessed it from the title right? Why would somebody with a HUGE phobia of needles chose to give blood? Well this is how it goes.
I am a student. I have no money to give to those in need, but I have blood that could save lives. So why should I let my selfish phobia get in the way? One day a couple of weeks ago I spontaneously decided I would face my fear and give blood. That was it; that night I registered to give blood. No further questions asked. And there I was today at the nearest donation site. Here is my diary of the night before, and then the actual day. Follow my journey on a quest to make a difference.

The Night Before Donation.

Tomorrow I shall give blood. I have a phobia of needles. A big phobia. But I want to save lives. I do not have money to give to those in need, but I do have blood that can be used to help to save somebody’s life. So, last week I decided, against all odds I will face my fear, and I will do something to help somebody else.

Tomorrow afternoon. I am trying not to think too much about it because I have lived with this phobia for some time now, and to face a needle will be terrifying for me. I have always refused blood tests because of it, yet here I am. About to give blood. I will not do it for my own health, but I will do it for others'.

I am exited in a way, nervous in another. I have been having dreams about the day for a couple of weeks now; imagining all sorts of silly issues with the needle. The night before has finally arrived and I am ready to challenge myself and make a difference. I will do it for someone else this time. Not for me. For somebody’s mother, daughter, best friend, partner. I hope that my blood will be used to save somebody’s life. Wish me luck.

The hour before

I am ready. I have had the largest bowl of All-bran possible because they do an iron check before you can give blood. That’s a big concern of mine – plucking up the courage to allow somebody to stick a needle in me, only for them to say my iron is too low. I don’t feel too bad actually. Not right now. I am not really thinking about the needle, I am thinking about saving somebody’s life instead.

I have an hour to prepare. I don’t feel sick – I am surprised about that. I thought I was facing it alone but I think that my mother is coming along now too – she said that she wanted to see how I behaved near a needle, and did this little evil laugh. I wasn’t impressed at all. It will be nice to have some support though. I am dressed, I have exercised, eaten, drunk two coffees and now I just need to put on some make up – and of course plaster on a brave face. Keep smiling. Chin up. And keep telling myself that I could save somebody’s life in my own little way. It’s worth it for that.
(See next post for during, and after my experience!)
Boneata Bell


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