By Hillary Travis
Special to powhatantoday.com

Donating blood seems to be one of those rites of passage nowadays in high school. Once you’re old enough it only seems right that you should try it at least once, and take pride in the lives you save with your donation. Every time the Virginia Blood Services come to Powhatan High School, students spend the rest of the day wearing their arm bandages like red badges of courage. As a senior, I figured this year would be my last chance to overcome this obstacle and show my courage to the rest of the school – I, too, can take a stab in the arm to save some lives.

After literally hours of begging my mom to sign the permission slip for me to make a donation, I excitedly went to school the next day with high expectations for the blood drive. Quite honestly, I don’t really know what I was expecting, but I was still pumped with adrenaline even as I was sitting in the waiting chair watching other students with blanched faces stumble dizzily out of the gymnasium. A friend of mine came over to where I was seated, his pale face a dead giveaway of his recent donation. He handed me a packet of cookies as he weakly said, “Eat these. Or else you’re going to pass out.” Taking no chances, I listened to his advice.

It took nearly an hour of waiting before I was called up for the initial examination. Perhaps I should have considered it an ominous sign, though, that when the doctor pricked my finger to test my hemoglobin levels, it began bleeding from not only the sight of the needle poke, but also from the opposite side. The doctor and I stared at it confusedly before sharing a round of laughter at the unexpected situation, and after being cleared to make a donation he handed me a stack of bags and paperwork. Sitting in a new waiting section, I watched a circle of people in reclined chairs being pumped of their blood as they sipped at small cans of soda and shared nervous glances at one another. When it was my turn, I seated myself in one of the chairs and placed my left arm out. The nurse took my bags and paperwork, handing me a padded object to squeeze while she marked off the spot where my vein was. From that point on, it was like watching a car wreck – I knew I shouldn’t look, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. Perhaps this is where my major downfall was, because I simply stared on as she pulled out the largest needle I’ve ever seen from the end of one of the bags and slowly poked it through the spot on my arm she had so carefully marked. This wasn’t as bad as I had expected, until the nurse began fiddling with the needle for several minutes and I began to feel lightheaded. Several girls came by to offer me some soda, but I declined their offers, unsure if I could stomach it at the moment.

Blood was yet to have been drawn from my arm, other than the small amount that lined the edge of the skin where the needle rested, when the nurse began shouting to another standing nearby. “Taneisha, Taneisha – it’s not working. I think I did it wrong.” At that moment, my lightheadedness got the best of me and everything faded to black, as several voices echoed through my head shouting, “Are you okay? Are you okay?”

A few seconds later, I found myself lying on my back staring at the gym ceiling. The needle had been removed from my arm and the paperwork was back in my hand. Defeated, I knew I had failed at saving those lives by giving that precious blood. As I rose to leave the chair and head out of the door, one of the nurses came over and stood next to me. I tried to bargain for a re-do, proclaiming that I wouldn’t watch this time, but she simply laughed at me. I will never forget the words she spoke to me at that moment – “Honey, I thought you was dead!” I carefully slipped out through the door and returned to class, glancing down at my arm, bandaged in its pink wrapping. Paired with the sticker I now had that read, “Be nice to me. I donated blood today,” I felt ashamed of my false display of courage. Many people ask me if I would try it again. Looking back on the situation, I’d tell them “no,” but in actuality, I would be more than happy to give blood drives one more chance. I just won’t look this time – I promise!