Suzi Foltz: Oh, Bloody High School

“Can you tell me your full name and your birthdate?”

“Name; Suzanne Patterson Foltz. Birthday; June 4, 1999…oh my god, no. Not ’99, ’93. I was born June 4, 1993. Sorry.”

“Okay…”

Why would I say ’99? That would make me only eleven years old. Eleven year olds can’t donate blood. I hope I don’t look eleven. They probably just assume I’m nervous. Hell, I am nervous. Shouldn’t be nervous. I’m sure thousands of people do this everyday. A few dozen from my school have already done it today and nothing bad happened to them. Although I’m a mentorship student so I haven’t really been here all day… For all I know they could have pulled in a couple ambulances and had the entire floor bleached washed from all the blood spilled… God, I’ve been watching too much Snapped.

I donated blood last year though, so I shouldn’t be worried. Granted, it didn’t go so well last year. I wasn’t able to fill a bag. Apparently I have great platelets. Uhm, thank you? This caused me to clot too quickly and not have a steady outward flow of blood to the bag. Or maybe they just didn’t hit the vein right and didn’t want to admit it. Don’t know how they’d do that though; I’m incredibly pale and have rather prominent veins, a trait inherited from my mother’s side. Hey mom!

“Come on over here to this little booth and Mike will help you out.”

“Hi Mike.” Insert crazy laugh here (I don’t know why).

Mike was nice. He explained everything that he was doing; checking my vitals and whatnot. Rather calming.

“Alright, now I’m gonna prick ya.”

Okay, not so calming. But I knew it was coming. Distract yourself Suzi. Make conversation.

“So…you make anyone cry today?”

Well dang, that was an awful thing to ask.

“No, not yet. But I have in the past. Blood drive at Bridgewater. The entire football team wanted to donate and this one big guy burst into tears. Big sissy. Rest of them made fun of him all day.”

I found this oddly calming.

The pricky-thing was set up and he asked for my hand. I did a crazy sort of jazz hand motion as I tried to decide which hand to use and settled on the left. Then I looked around for something to focus on rather than my finger. Uhm…athletic trophies, table of snacks, free t-shirts, fountain outside the window…wait, we have a fountain?

“We have a fountain?”

I don’t know why I asked Mike. I was the student here. I came into this building everyday. Gosh, I’m oblivious.

“Oh, yeah you do. They installed it this morning when we were setting up.”

Yay! I’m not completely dumb. And the finger pricking was over. Not bad at all.

The next step was a series of questions I had to answer on a little tablet screen. Have I had malaria? No. Have I lived in the U.K. for a time that equaled up to five years? No. Have I served in the military? No. Have I had sex in exchange for drugs, money, or other payment? No. Have I had sex with a man who has had sex with a man? No. Have you taken an aspirin in the past 72 hours? Oh my gosh, yes. Beside the question they had a little picture of a bottle of Bayer. I had in fact, taken a Bayer. The tablet screen knew… I shamefully clicked the yes button with the stylus.

The questions continued on for quite a bit and I stood up when I was finished and was redirected to my next helper, Bill. He clicked through the system and then paused and looked up at me.

“You took an aspirin?”

“Yes… Before work. On Saturday. Just two. I had a headache.”

He smiled and continued clicking, then told me to go sit in one of the donor chairs.

The chairs were like stretchers and could be propped up at different angles. I sat in it awkwardly. Not sure of what to do with my feet. I kept crossing them and uncrossing them. Why did I wear white to a blood drive? Seemed like an odd color choice at this point. Bill came back and cinched my arm to get the veins to stick out more. Then the nervousness came back again.

I wonder how big the needle is. I can’t remember from last year. If I can’t remember it must not have been that big. Either that or it was so big that I am suppressing that terrible memory. I’ve never had a problem with flu shot needles or IVs when I’ve needed them. Deep breaths. Drugees do it all the time. Why would I think that? Why am I thinking so fast?

I was handed a rubber stress ball-like object and told to squeeze three times and hold the squeeze on the fourth count. Bill would count with me. One…two…three…four and hold.

The needle was in. I won’t lie, it hurt a bit going in, but not enough for me to get as worked up as I had. I was fine. I kept rolling the little stress-relief object as instructed and kept taking deep breaths. At one point my finger hit something. I looked over to see what it was. My fingers had been brushing against my little tube. The little tube was red. Well not red, but it was filled with red liquid; my blood. My blood was coming out of me from that point in my arm…

“I’m feeling a little lightheaded.”

“Yeah, I thought you were looking kind of pale.”

I’m always pale, how can people tell? My seat was adjusted, I was told to cough “like I meant it”, an ice pack was placed on my neck, and I was offered orange juice. Mmm orange juice. I was feeling much better, just couldn’t look directly at it or think about it too much. People are always saying find your happy place, maybe that works. I let my mind wander. Hmm maybe hiking? Somewhere in the mountains. With a lake. No, a creek. And lots of rocks to jump to and from across the creek. Sunny day in…August? Picnic lunch with a PB&J. My “happy place” face must not be that pleasant, because a nurse came up and asked if I was alright. I was.

The rest of my donation went fine. I just sat there. The removal of the needle didn’t feel that unusual; happened really quickly. I selected blue as my bandage color, which Bill wrapped and added a pink bow (made of the bandage material) to. After a few minutes I got up to leave, stopping at the table to grab my free t-shirt.

My vision began to get a bit cloudy like it does sometimes when you stand up too quickly. It’d go away in a second. I wanted a medium sized shirt. I grabbed for the second pile and looked at the tag. My vision was worse and I could barely make out the M on the tag. I turned slowly and headed back to my chair. I reached my hand out to find it.

“I think I need another minute of sitting.”

“I think we need another orange juice.”

Yes…

After about a minute I was fine again, but Bill told me not to move yet. I instead watched all the other donors; I could handle this. One guy was having the needle placed him. One girl was sitting drinking juice too. Apple. People were waiting in the booths answering their questions. All of a sudden I noticed that one girl was passing out. A nurse noticed the same minute I did. Three of them rushed over to her and immediately took out her needle and placed her bag to the side. Her chair was adjusted, ice packs were brought, and they began asking her is she could hear them and if things were getting clear. I had remained oddly calm during all of this, just observing. Either I was completely drained from my own donation or I was self-centered and only cared if it was happening to me. I decided it was the first as my mouth searched around for my bendy straw.

All in all, I’d say it was a good experience. Despite all of the moments I was nervous or freaked myself out, it truly is for a great cause. My own curiosity lead me to the Virginia Blood Services website where I learned that if only one more percent of all Americans would give blood, blood shortages would disappear for the foreseeable future. There are four main red blood cell types: A, B, AB and O. Each can be positive or negative for the Rh factor. AB is the universal recipient; O negative is the universal donor of red blood cells. (My own blood type is O negative). In Virginia healthy adults who are at least 16 and weigh at least 110 pounds may donate about a pint of blood – the most common form of donation – every 56 days, or every two months. Sixteen year old donors must have written parental consent to donate. One pint of blood can save up to three lives. About 1 in 7 people entering a hospital need blood. Only 38 percent of the U.S. population is eligible to donate blood – less than 10 percent do annually. Someone needs blood every two seconds. Females receive 53 percent of blood transfusions; males receive 47 percent.

Blood donation is a safe procedure using single use sterile supplies. It is normally a pleasant experience, and drinking plenty of fluids and eating well prior to donation can reduce donor reactions. The donation process may occasionally cause nausea, vomiting, dizziness, fainting, tenderness, bruising, bleeding, nerve damage, or even infection at the site.

It’s been one day since my donation and so far there have been no problems. I had to take a nap yesterday, but that’s really not that unusual. My arm has a little dot where the needle was but that can be fun to show off.

If you have any questions regarding your or your child’s decision, call Virginia Blood Services Customer Service Advocate at 1.800.989.2201 or the Donor Advocate at 1.800.989.3666. To learn more or find a donation site, visit www.vablood.org.

Suzi Foltz is an AugustaFreePress.com intern and a senior at Wilson Memorial High School.