Let’s all donate blood
Iam so proud of my dad. He recently attended an awards dinner, a South African National Blood Service event, where he was commended for donating a mind-boggling 350 units. Let me unboggle that: he has theoretically been completely drained of blood 24 times in his life.
Given that one unit of blood can save up to three lives, my father could have saved more than 1 000 people. Yes, 1 000 people likely have my dad’s blood running through their systems; I probably have 1 000 blood brothers and sisters out there of all shapes, sizes, colours and creeds. It’s a beautiful thing.
And all because, beneath his feigned grumpiness, my dear old pops cares. Did I mention how proud I am? But I fear my dad might be quietly ashamed of me, for I am not a regular blood donor. I should be: both of my sisters’ lives have been saved by blood transfusions and I recall my mum in hospital many years ago too, after surgery, with a transfusion bag attached to her arm.
Anonymity wasn’t such a thing back then and, if I recall correctly, her donor was a Mr Whitehead, God bless him.
Yes, I know first hand how vital a transfusion can be.
So, determined to emulate my dad, I went to donate on Saturday – but as I was due to catch a plane two days later and donations are not allowed within 72 hours of flying, they sent me on my way. Next time, I said …
But I said that last time, when I stupidly tried to give blood on the very day I was due to take off.
The time before that, I was prevented from donating because my iron levels were too low.
Frustratingly, in Ireland (where I mostly live) they don’t want my blood at all because I’m from South Africa, the entirety of which is deemed a malaria area.
So might I ask something in honour of my dad and the 70 850 regular donors – those who give four times a year – who keep our blood banks stocked for everyone? Can we all try giving blood, please?
It’s easy, you’ll be an instant hero, plus you get a free biscuit.
I’m talking particularly to people of colour: 65% of regular donors are white, while 23% are black (though this figure is steadily growing).
Ultimately we all bleed red – and my heroic dad is being bled dry.