This post was written by Miguel Miranda, B.S. in Forensic Studies student, after donating during a campus blood drive on Monday, Sept. 29.
Today was the fourth time I’ve given blood. I first gave blood my sophomore year in high school, and I remember being anxious because I had no idea what it was like. When I signed up to donate at that time, I didn’t really think about why I chose to do it, other than the fact that many people around the country needed blood.
After that, I didn’t donate blood for a few years, mainly because I was afraid of the finger sticks. I started donating blood again in 2022, and I started developing more reasons as to why I choose to donate.
I don’t think that I have much to give; I don’t really have money, food, or assets I can give to people in order to improve their well-being. I’ve personally never been hospitalized for any injuries or diseases, but it strikes a chord in me whenever I see men, women, or children in desperate need for organ transplants or transfusions. There is so little I can do to help them except give blood. If I can improve a human being’s quality of life in a 45-minute appointment, then I will jump at that opportunity with any chance I get.
Some people are afraid, indifferent, or even against donating blood, but I think that a human life is worth so much more than our psychology. Even if the experience is initially uncomfortable, I’ve become used to it because it’s not a demanding task that requires strenuous preparation.
When I was younger, I was terrified of needles. I was the child who you’d hear screaming throughout the clinic. Even today, the gut feeling hasn’t really gone away but I still choose to do it because the outcome is so much greater than that moment of unease. According to the Red Cross, a person needs a blood transfusion or platelets every 2 seconds. There are many things in this world that can leave us in the same position as those in need, and so I empathize greatly with those on transplant and blood lists.
After a donation, I feel satisfied knowing that I gave what little I had to someone who truly needs it. I don’t care where my blood goes so long as it goes to someone in need. I also don’t track where my blood goes because I feel like it’s wrong to feel satisfied if it’s rooted in self-righteousness.
Donating blood is not hard, there are plenty of drives everywhere and at different times of the day. You fill out an application with your information and answer a short survey, and that’s it for registering. On the day of the donation, you get your vitals checked, you show that you completed the survey, and you’re ready to give. Thankfully, the Red Cross stopped using finger sticks and now uses a thumb scanner device to check your hemoglobin, so I’m probably going to donate blood even more often now. If I were ever in a situation where I needed an immediate blood transfusion, I would also wish that someone had the compassion to donate. In my head, I always find myself asking, if no one does it, then who will?