As I look above me, I see the blood, a deep, rich red, trickling from the thick plastic pouch—running drop by precious drop into my arm. It is a very slow drip, necessary, I’ve been told, for people with heart conditions who receive transfusions. Just one in a long list of safety precautions taken where infusions are concerned. I don’t mind the slowness; I’m too weak to care, to even want to move. The recliner is comfortable and nurse Claire is kind. As the process continues, I nap off and on all day, aware only that Claire keeps taking my temperature and blood pressure. “Doing fine,” she assures me each time I wake.

It was the second time I’d been in that recliner in only two weeks. As I watched the blood drip into the tubing, I thought of what a tenuous hold we sometimes have on what author Annie Dillard refers to as our “One, wild life.” The connection between my life and that plastic pouch filled with a stranger’s generosity affected me with an overpowering gratitude. Who gave me this blood, I wondered to myself. Whose life-force is this?

Carol Dembeck, Corporation Communications Specialist at the Burlington, Vermont Red Cross, says many donors are people who began giving blood because they knew someone who needed it. “Or,” she says, “sometimes they started donating in high school or college because there was a blood drive and it was an event. Eventually, being a donor becomes part of their identity and they go on giving.” Nevertheless, lifetime donors are few and far between. Less than five percent of the population eligible to give blood actually do it. I find myself thinking maybe it’s the time factor or perhaps there’s a lot of pain involved.

Dembeck tells me it usually takes about an hour, and only about ten minutes of that time is actually spent giving the blood. The remainder is tied up in registering, talking with a staff member about your health history, and getting a drop of blood tested to make sure your hemoglobin is at a sufficient level to donate. Just a quick pinprick from a phlebotomist and the momentary discomfort is over. “Afterwards, our volunteer workers take extra good care of our donors,” Dembeck continues. “We want them comfy and relaxed. We give them something to eat and drink and find ways to say thank you. At our blood drives, we have things like giveaways, displays, and free raffles.”

Still, I think to myself as I watch my infusion continue, there’s a needle involved and some folks are terrified of needles. And an hour is only an hour, but not when anyone figures in travel time and other factors, such as the overall nervousness some people have around blood. I think of my dear friend Eva, a regular blood donor, and how she blanches at the sight of blood. “I never look when they take it from me,” she says. And needles? She can’t even watch me when I do a simple insulin self injection. Yet, year after year she donates. Most humans have 10 to 12 pints in their bodies and can donate one every eight weeks if they choose. And, since there is no upper age limit for donors, we don’t get turned away when elderly.

Always anemic, I’ve never been able to donate. Before today, any infusions I received were always when I was under anesthesia during surgery, totally unaware. So I never really thought about it until this moment. But now, being conscious, I find myself profoundly aware of the fact that someone I probably don’t even know and will never meet, gave me this blood, bringing back life and energy where only utter fatigue and weariness had existed. Someone cared enough to help me survive. Someone didn’t find an excuse not to donate and, instead, reached out with this liquid red gold.

It’s several weeks since I sat in that recliner, receiving the extraordinary offering from my unknown benefactor. I am still acutely aware of the mixing of our blood and its vital role in my body. Deep from my long network of veins and arteries I find myself silently uttering, Thank you, dear stranger. Bless you and thank you.

The Burlington, Vermont Red Cross is located at 32 North Prospect Street, (802) 658-6400. Call toll free 1-800-843-3500 to locate a Vermont donation center near you.

K. K. Wilder is a columnist and educator who lives in Vermont. Reach her at KKWilder@aol.com.

Reprinted by permission of Vermont Maturity Magazine, with our thanks.

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