My mother used to take me with her to the blood bank when I was a child. I remember this well. The blood bank used to be upstairs in a building on North Terrace. We used to make an afternoon of it, going shopping in the newly opened Rundle Mall, with a visit to the David Jones cafe for lunch where she would always have a cappucino and a slice of almond torte. Giving blood was always a normal thing to do for me. The blood bank also did great milkshakes in tin cups (the only way milkshakes should be made) and sausage rolls from memory, for those that gave blood.
Mum always explained it that it was a good thing to do. The rationale was that you might need blood one day, and this was your way of paying it forward - and hopefully somebody will have given you the pint of blood you may need if and when you need it.
Then, of course, my father had a couple of open heart surgeries in the seventies. Heaven knows how much blood they went through during those operations.
So giving blood has always felt like something you do to keep your karma up - and pay back the universe.
When I reached 18-years-old, I started donating blood regularly, having to take a break after I got glandular fever when I was at university.
Then I went to England. I wasn't allowed to donate blood over there becuase I'd had an African boyfriend - the fact he was a white South African who lived in London now didn't matter. I was procluded.
When I got back to Australia in 1999, I donating blood again. Partly for the decent milkshakes in tin cups, partly becuase it's what you do.
About a year later they announced that they were banning people who had lived in Britain betweent 1980 and 1996 for more than six months from donating blood. We were deemed as a risk for people getting CJD - Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease - known as Mad Cow disease. Not knowing the effect our blood would have on others, we were instantly banned from giving blood.
I remember going with a friend to donate blood the day before the ban came into place.
That was 20 December 2000.
And from that time, I've felt personally victimised by the blood bank.
I felt awful about this when my niece was diagnosed with leukaemia. Because of my mad cow status, I couldn't give blood to help stem the flow after she went through transfusion after transfusion. I wasn't allowed to offer up my blood to see if I could be a stem cell donor, not that I probably would have been a match, but it would have been good to at least be tested.
I've felt bad about the fact I haven't been able to donate over the last 21 years. It was my one community service activity and I did this with pride.
Well, as of yesterday, I'm allowed to donate blood again.
I'm booked in to go on Saturday. They only need three days break between the time the COVID vaccination and the donation. They have cleared me from the surgeries of a few months ago. I'm good to go.
And my friend who came with me all those years ago - I'm hoping she's coming with me - because she's no longer a mad cow, and for similar reasons, she likes the fact she can donate again. We've talked about it already.
I had to call the blood bank to ask about my status becuase of the surgery. The woman on the other end of the phone was lovely. Helpful. And she said there had been an influx of people like myself, who after 21 years in the wilderness, were very happy to stick out an arm and have a vein drained.
It's a good thing. It's not a little thing. It saves lives. And they love my garden variety O+ blood as much as anybody elses. They love everybody equally.
And when it gets used, I'll then receive a text saying what , and where, the blood was used.
I don't feel victimised by the blood bank any more. The natural way of things has been restored.
Donate blood, if you can. It's a good thing.
Go to www.lifeblood.com.au for more details.
2 comments:
Ice cold tin cup that is cold to hold in your hand as you drink the milkshake through a paper straw
Yep, that's the one. The only way a milkshake should be drunk.
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