Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered

Blood Is Thicker Than Water, But These People Are The Thickest Of All

, , , , | Healthy | April 20, 2022

I work at a blood bank, and we’ve had a distinct increase in people wanting to have family or friends donate blood for them because they’re afraid of “vaccine-tainted” blood. They’re bad enough, but one lady takes the cake.

Caller: “My child is having surgery next week, and the doctor says they’ll need blood during the surgery. I want [Family Member] to donate for my child instead of getting blood from a volunteer donor because you let vaccinated people donate blood. I don’t want my child to get vaccinated by receiving blood from a vaccinated donor!”

Yes, this lady thinks the vaccine is contagious!

I Think Sending Blood Via Mail Is Illegal

, , , | Working | January 27, 2022

I donate blood regularly, so when I move to a very rural town I double-check the donation site to start booking locally. Sadly, even with the parameters at fifty miles away, no locations are nearby. I call my old donation center to let them know and to cancel future appointments. I still receive automated calls from them to remind me. Annoyed, I finally get ahold of a person.

Me: “Hi. I would like to cancel future donations, please. I’ve moved.”

Representative: “Are you sure? We can book you through your postcode online!”

Me: “You’re more than welcome to look. It’s [postcode].”

There’s a long pause.

Representative: “Okay, well, I’ll take you off our list. That’s new!”

I try to donate when the buses stop by, despite my location.

What A Load Of Crap

, , , | Healthy | October 10, 2020

I have been giving blood for years now without issue. Being slim, a few nurses ask me to confirm my weight because the clinic will not accept donations from anyone under fifty kg.

Nurse: “What is your weight, please?”

Me: “It’s fifty-five kg.”

Nurse: “No, it’s not. You’re underweight.”

Me: “Yes, it really is fifty-five kg; I can jump on some scales right now if you like.”

Nurse: “No, we don’t have any here. You are not fifty-five kg. When did you weigh yourself?”

Me: “This morning, because I knew I was coming here.”

Nurse: “Before breakfast and undressed?”

Me: “Yes, of course.”

Nurse: “Was it before or after you went to the bathroom?”

Me: “I had already had a wee before I weighed myself.”

Nurse: “But not passed a stool? That will account for the discrepancy, then.”

Me: “Wait. What? The cut off is fifty kg; I’m five kg over that. I can’t lose that in one trip to the bathroom.”

Nurse: “Oh, you’d be surprised.”

In the end, I was allowed to donate if I promised to completely empty my bowels before the next visit — all five kg of it, apparently.

Give The Gift Of Life And Life Pays It Forward

, , , , , | Friendly | August 10, 2020

I have been a plasma donor for quite some time and this happens one chilly day in the fall. I have been going through a tough time emotionally and financially but I am scraping by. It has started to drizzle and I know I am low on gas, but I hope that I can at least make it to the plasma center, donate, get paid for that, and make it to the gas station just up the street.

Unfortunately, when I come out of the center, I can’t start the car due to a lack of gas. I don’t have a jacket in my car because of poor planning on my part, but I resign myself to getting the gas can out of the trunk and walking the block and a half or so to the gas station and back.

I am walking along the sidewalk rubbing my arms to try and stay warm when a car pulls up to me and the lady in the driver’s seat leans over and asks where I am heading.

Me: “I’m on my way to the gas station because my car is totally out of gas!”

I laugh at myself.

Lady: “Well, hop in and I’ll drive you over there. Just this one up the street, right?”

I’m just grateful to be getting out of the rain.

Me: “Yes, thank you so much!”

She drives me up to a gas pump as we chat. I explain that I’m hoping that I have money on my card from donating and she laughs and tells me that she understands being tight on money. I get out to pay with my donor card and find out that it’s declined and that the money hasn’t been deposited yet.

Lady: “That’s okay! I’ll just charge it for you; it’s only a couple of dollars. 

Me: “Oh, thank you, thank you! I really appreciate this!”

I get my gas can filled and we head back to my car. We chat more on the way over and she promises to wait to make sure my car starts. As I start to get out, she hands me $40 and I am shocked and humbly accept the money. I get out and put the gas in. I climb into the driver’s seat and cross my fingers, hoping the car will start. I turn the key and voila! The engine turns over and I pump my fists in the air! I run back over to the lady’s car.

Me: “It worked! Thank you so much for saving me from walking in the cold!”

Lady: “I’m so glad!”

She reaches out her hand, and I reach back thinking she just wants to shake my hand. Suddenly, I feel a paper being slipped into my hand. I open it up to find a $100 bill. I begin stammering about how I can’t possibly accept this much from her and she just smiles.

Lady: “It’s okay; I just had that in my wallet. You need it more than I do and I hope you find some way to pay it back to someone in need one day.”

She drove off and I numbly walked back to my car and closed the door. It was not long before the numbness wore off and I began crying. I was able to fill my car and buy food with the money she gave me. I firmly believe that the lady who helped me three years ago was sent by something — be it fate, God, or just sheer dumb luck — to help get me through a rough time in my life and remind me that there are still good people in the world.


This story is part of our feel-good roundup for August 2020!

Read the next feel-good story here!

Read the feel-good August 2020 roundup!

Nancy The Needler Strikes Again!

, , | Healthy | March 4, 2020

(While I am very squeamish about needles, I like to give blood often because I am a universal donor. I have family that have needed transfusions, so I like to donate in honor of the people who have helped them. Volunteers are usually very nice and ease my needle anxiety throughout the process. Not this time, though.)

Volunteer: “Lay down here.”

Me: “Okay. Just so you know, I’m kind of scared of needles. It would really help if you could just count down before you prick me.”

Volunteer: “No. I’m not doing that. Lay down.”

Me: *getting nervous now* “Wait. Why can’t you just count down to let me know when you’re putting the needle in?”

Volunteer: “You’re a big girl; suck it up.”

(She grabs my arm and quickly uses a wipe to disinfect the area. I’m a wreck, so I jump when she does this, even though I’m not in pain. I’m just so anxious about this needle now.)

Volunteer: “You can’t jump like that when I put the needle in! I’ll have to do it over if you jump like that!”

Me: “I won’t jump if you just count down or let me know when you’re putting it in!”

(I’m shaking at this point and close to hyperventilating.)

Volunteer: “What’s the point of giving blood if you’re going to be so jumpy?!”

(Eventually, I calm down enough for her to prick my arm quickly. A few months later, I’m giving blood again and am relaying this story to another volunteer, who was kind enough to count down before putting the needle in.)

Nice Volunteer: “Was she skinny, tall, dark hair…?”

Me: “Yes! That was her!”

Nice Volunteer: “Oh, that was Nancy. We got a lot of complaints about her. She doesn’t come to blood drives anymore”

(Thankfully, I never saw her again.)