It was probably the strangest compliment I had ever given anyone.
Saturday afternoon I told a young lady she had managed to poke me not once, but twice, with a needle so well that it ranked easily in my Top 10 experiences involving needles.
That’s saying a lot given I’ve been poked with needles in my elbows approaching 200 times.
It’s not to say that other phlebotomists from Delta Blood Bank that’s now Red Cross, don’t do a good job finding my vein and avoiding scrapping the wall most times. But she managed to be perfectly on target.
I’ve been giving platelets for a number of years after the staff of the former Delta Blood Bank asked if I was interested. It is something you can do every two weeks up to 24 times a year as opposed to donating whole blood every 56 days. The whole blood process takes a relatively short time. Platelet donations require you to be hooked up to a machine that takes the platelets from your blood and then returns the rest of the blood to your body.
A couple of weeks ago I had a friend ask why I keep doing it. I gave them the stock answer about helping people and they stopped me. They asked again the real reason I did it as they noted it typically ties up more than three hours on a Saturday between the two hour donation as well as the drive there and back plus the screening and registration. They also knew Saturdays are my only free days and that they thought I’d rather be hiking.
I’m not going to lie. When I was asked to first donate, it was explained to me how important having a constant supply of platelets is critical for a lot of patients especially those battling cancer and leukemia. Once they said leukemia, I thought of Russell Perkins.
Russell was one of those guys who always had a smile, was quick with a joke, was smart as a whip, never hesitated to help someone else, was athletic, and generally healthy as a horse. I knew his older brothers better. Of all the acquaintances over the years who have passed away way too early, Russell’s death from leukemia stunned me. Part of it had to do with his family. They were great people. Part of it was he was the kid you always wished you could be more like. But it was the fact that someone in his 20s who was healthy and took care of himself was taken out not by an auto accident— but from a blood disease stunned me.
I started donating whole blood through the Sacramento Blood Bank after that for purely selfish reasons. I figured giving blood every eight weeks or so was a good way to assure if I ever developed leukemia it would be detected fairly early given the blood that is drawn from donors is tested before it is given to patients.
Over the years as I’ve worked on my own health through diet and exercise, my motivation to give platelets has evolved. And while I know I’m not invincible, what drives me now is knowing there are other Russell Perkins out there that are fighting to live who have family and friends.
It’s weird in a way. Every time for the last seven years that I’ve donated palettes I’ve thought of Russell.
Saturday it happened after a 90-minute movie I was watching was over and my shoulder started to cramp up. Over the past few weeks between hiking in snow pulling myself up mountain sides with an ice ax as well as lifting weights I’ve overdone it.
I had elected to do the double arm donation instead of the single arm as it is a little faster. The drawback is both of your arms have needles in them. The phlebotomists will offer you Tums as they help counter cramps for some reason when you are donating blood. But the one only time I took Tums that they offered I because extremely nauseous. I decided after that I’d chew on chalk before I ever took another Tums.
Anyone who knows me fairly well understands I can hike 14 miles in the mountains for six to eight hours and never sit down without it bothering me but if I sit for more than an hour it kills me.
Every platelet donation is a test of my tolerance of pain — not from the needles but from being immobile for up to two hours. This comes from somebody who once calmly spent four hours strapped to a backboard in a manner that I couldn’t move after a doctor during a crash at an organized bicycle event told responding EMTs that he thought I broke my neck.
I was honestly ready to lose it Saturday but before I gave into it, Russell popped up in my thoughts. I decided I could tough it out as I had it easy and I had it good. I wasn’t fighting for my life. And perhaps more important I’ve been fortunate when it comes to health and walking away from more than a few calls.
There are hundreds of Russells out there in the Northern San Joaquin Valley that would gladly trade places with me if they could.
You can donate whole blood in Manteca on Mondays from noon to 7 p.m. or schedule times on other days of the week in Stockton or Modesto. You can go online at redcrossblood.org or call 209.466.4910.