A Drop in the Bucket?

Our stake had a blood drive yesterday.  I have been a donor for many years and really was excited about the prospect of helping someone.  I have really tiny veins.  It usually takes a couple of tries to find a good one.  I therefore end up with holes and bruises every time.  Well, after three different attendants, both arms, two different chairs, turning the second chair around, and getting the supervisor they managed to find a vein and hook me up!  Oops!  Seems that it wasn't flowing at a very good rate.  I usually fill the bag very quickly.  My blood is extremely rich in iron - they say it is more like a man's blood than most women. 

Well, as I lay there waiting and squeezing the little ball they gave me, I was able to muse on Mom and Dad and their attempt at donating blood.  Dad was an excellent donor for many years.  I think he received a lifetime of free blood for his service.  He had an international blood type O2, which only 7% of the population have.  It can donate to any other blood type but only receive blood from another O2.  I remember thinking how cool he was for being so special and in demand!   Then there was Mom...  she always wanted to donate.  She told me once that every time the opportunity came up, she was either at "that time of the month" or pregnant!  When she was finally through with all that "female" stuff,  she went to donate, and they wouldn't take her blood.  It seems that she had really LOW iron.  She pulled down her lower eyelid to show me that inside of it was barely tinged pink when it should have been a healthy red.  (I told that to the supervisor who poked me and she said she was going to check that out on the rest of the donors that day.)  Mom's doctor did give her an iron supplement, but they didn't work, because her system just wouldn't absorb it.  I think she chose not to have the shots.

I feel so grateful to my parents for setting a good example to me. 

I was rudely torn form my musing by a very annoying high-pitched sound coming from the little scale my bag of blood was resting on.  The supervisor came running over and said the bag was filling too slowly and she needed to move the needle slightly to help it run better.  She did turn the needle and twist and push and I almost came straight up off my chair.  In all the years of being poked and bruised, I had never experienced any pain.  Omygosh - this was not fun anymore!  She said the needle and vein was laying hard on a nerve, and to keep me from getting a knot in the vein or the nerve she had to pull the needle.  Well, the bag was only 3/4 full which means that it can only be used for testing purposes and can not be given to a patient.  I was crushed.  I felt I had wasted everyone's time as well as a bag of blood!  If you know me, you know what happened next.  Yep!  I started to leak from my eyes.  This cute little supervisor thought she had really hurt me badly.  I explained that it was mere disappointment, and she said she totally understood as she had had a similar experience. 

The only other time I was not able to complete a donation was at the LDS Hospital before Mom went in for her heart surgery.  My vein had simply closed before the bag was full.  I really felt torn up over that.  It was a gift for my Mom!

So, I really did have good intentions, but didn't even leave a drop in the bucket.