Spring Break
Possibility to save life of a stranger
Rachel Spitler
Issue date: 5/9/08 Section: Forum
I have always loved giving blood.
I think my feelings about it date back to early high school, when I was too young to participate in the blood drive.
All the cool older kids would get to leave class and would later saunter back in sporting big shiny bandages, declaring proudly that they'd finally made it through without passing out.
Any activity with a result like that is clearly the definition of "hardcore."
Getting more to the point, apparently a single donation can save up to three people's lives, as the American Red Cross reminds us.
I don't know how often that actually happens, but I do know that the meaning behind the statistic floors me.
For most of us (who aren't doctors, veterans, fire-fighters, etc.), straight-up heroism is simply not on the calendar. For example, I'm an English major; any situation that makes saving lives a survival skill is basically confined to wish-fulfillment books, particularly those written by other English majors.
Otherwise, my opportunities to save lives are rather limited. I can drive carefully, look out for my friends, learn CPR…
And I can give blood.
I know we're all used to it by now, but just pause for a minute and think about how crazy this is.
You walk down to the MU Ballroom, endure 10 minutes of discomfort, and walk back out. Nothing huge or difficult transpires. You even get a snack when you're done. And in exchange, some stranger's life continues.
Their life!
It's almost mystifying how unbalanced this equation is.
For me, that thought alone makes the rest of the experience worthwhile. Sure, the donation process involves some pain - a fact I conveniently allow myself to forget between visits - but it's amazing that we can do so much good with so little effort.
Besides, for most people, even the unpleasant part is downright bearable. I don't particularly love needles, of course, and always get little pangs of anxiety, but a twisted ankle hurts a lot worse, and doesn't do anyone else any good.
I think my feelings about it date back to early high school, when I was too young to participate in the blood drive.
All the cool older kids would get to leave class and would later saunter back in sporting big shiny bandages, declaring proudly that they'd finally made it through without passing out.
Any activity with a result like that is clearly the definition of "hardcore."
Getting more to the point, apparently a single donation can save up to three people's lives, as the American Red Cross reminds us.
I don't know how often that actually happens, but I do know that the meaning behind the statistic floors me.
For most of us (who aren't doctors, veterans, fire-fighters, etc.), straight-up heroism is simply not on the calendar. For example, I'm an English major; any situation that makes saving lives a survival skill is basically confined to wish-fulfillment books, particularly those written by other English majors.
Otherwise, my opportunities to save lives are rather limited. I can drive carefully, look out for my friends, learn CPR…
And I can give blood.
I know we're all used to it by now, but just pause for a minute and think about how crazy this is.
You walk down to the MU Ballroom, endure 10 minutes of discomfort, and walk back out. Nothing huge or difficult transpires. You even get a snack when you're done. And in exchange, some stranger's life continues.
Their life!
It's almost mystifying how unbalanced this equation is.
For me, that thought alone makes the rest of the experience worthwhile. Sure, the donation process involves some pain - a fact I conveniently allow myself to forget between visits - but it's amazing that we can do so much good with so little effort.
Besides, for most people, even the unpleasant part is downright bearable. I don't particularly love needles, of course, and always get little pangs of anxiety, but a twisted ankle hurts a lot worse, and doesn't do anyone else any good.
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