First-time blood donor overcomes fears

Despite fearing blood and needles Monitor's Jacqui Curtis did her bit when the Donormobile came to campus this week

6 October 2006: I've always dreaded needles and the sight of blood. I made the mistake of peeking during a childhood blood-test, and the frightening pace at which my blood gushed into the test-tube spawned the fear that has seen me recoil in horror for injections and shield my eyes in bloody-trauma scenes during ER.

After years of procrastinating about overcoming this fear, I finally decided that this week's visit of the Red Cross Donor Mobile to the University campus was just the impetus I needed to do it.

Jacqui gives a nervous smile as Nurse Terri expertly puts the needle in Photo: Jason Tozer

With a stomach-full of juice, water and lunch I headed up past the Boiler House lecture theatre to where the Donor Mobile was parked. Here I waited among fellow donors: a mother and daughter, University staff, members from the Golden Key Society who had rallied their members to donate, and students - many of whom had taken the opportunity to "donate with a mate" as part of the new Red Cross Blood Service incentive scheme.

After filling out a few prerequisite forms detailing my health history, I was interviewed by one of the nurses and given my "L plates"- a tear-drop shaped sticker that read "My First For Life" which she proudly pinned on my lapel.

My first hurdle was the haemoglobin test - a small finger prick which tests the iron level of the donor. The nurse explained that they "always put the safety of the donor first" when interviewing potential candidates and if the iron level was not satisfactory they would be deferred from donating. The thick, juicy steak I had for dinner the previous night meant I passed easily.

With my pulse racing at 108 (a "dead giveaway of my nervousness" according to Nurse Linda) I hopped into the chair. The tourniquet was applied and I was given a stress ball and instructed to squeeze it whilst Nurse Terry decided which one of my veins would be the lucky victim.

"I want this to be a nice experience for you, as it is your first time," she said.

Feeling slightly reassured, in my mind I was repeating my "one donation can save three lives" mantra.

"Okay, I'm going to put the needle in now."

I looked up at the florescent lighting, gripped onto the stress ball and winced. Then it was over. It stung a little, but it was over pretty quickly. Every twenty seconds or so I had to give it a gentle squeeze to keep the blood flowing - concentrating on doing that helped me to forget about the needle in my arm.

I was feeling great, spurred on by the nurse's promise that the "worst was over."

The final hurdle was removing the needle. The ten minutes spent in the chair and 470mls of blood I had donated had passed quickly as I watched the nurses zipping about the van checking on everyone.

"All done. Let's take this needle out now," Nurse Mistie said to me. "You've done very well for a first time donor."

"Oh thanks, but actually I'm feeling a little funny just now..."

Mistie sprang into action, getting me a wash cloth for my face and tipping my chair backward so the blood could run back to my head.

I felt a little overwhelmed and nauseated, but I found comfort in her reassurance that this kind of response "was extremely normal for a first time donor" and that after a few minutes upside down I'd be back to normal. By the time I was back to normal and upright, I realised that in between the commotion I hadn't even felt her removing the needle.

Feeling buoyed by the notion of having contributed to the greater good of the community and on a more personal level, having faced my fear - it was back to work with a big milkshake reward for my efforts.

This won't be the last time I give blood.