Yesterday I gave blood for the second time in six months and was anticipating an in/out experience now that I have my handy new blood donor card.
It wasn’t to be.
Since I was a walk-in, I thought I might have to wait a bit…but figured it was a small price to pay since the heat outdoors was providing me with lots of motivation to move from one indoor activity to another.
Still, 90 minutes to give blood? Ouch.
While I waited, I took advantage of the Red Cross’ reading material and learned more than I wanted to know about all the reasons why people can’t be blood donors.
There was literally page after page of cautions, exceptions, and warnings listed.
When I was finally ushered back behind the mesh screen to get checked in by a nurse who took my temp, blood pressure, pulse, and pricked my finger for blood (all before the real blood is drawn,) I commented about what a complicated process donating blood had become. The nurse shook his head and told me I had no idea just how complicated it was (from his perspective as well as mine.)
Then came another slew of questions on a computer before I was able to get down to the business of why I had come in the first place…to donate my blood.
The actual blood draw only took about eight minutes and before I knew it the nurse was clamping off my stream of O-Positive and making note of the additional six small vials taken (for testing to be sure the Red Cross is able to use my blood.)
All that to say this…as I moved from one area to the next, I felt my patience level being tested. I also felt somewhat frustrated when the nurse explained much of the hem-hawing around between stations was because a nameless someone forgot to bring needles for the blood drive. Oops.
But at the end of the day, I’m so glad I didn’t leave (the nurse told me they would have charted me as a “walkout” and it would have stayed on my records.) Who wants to be known as a walkout? Not me.
And, to be fair, the gal at the desk handed me a cool t-shirt for my trouble. I haven’t worn t-shirts for years, but the gesture was appreciated (and I’m sure one of my kids will make good use of it.)
Thus, my ordinary day where giving blood took a little longer than I expected, which threw off some other places I had planned to be.
Driving away, I was thinking about how often what we consider inconsequential, ordinary, and insignificant can be deemed as life savers to someone else.
I know personally what I consider “life-savers” in my mostly ordinary days.
I wonder if you feel the same way?
When someone tells me they’ll do something and they actually do it.
When someone emails/texts/calls me just because they thought about me.
When someone sends me a story or a joke to make me laugh.
When someone reminds me to keep the faith.
Little kindnesses make all the difference in a day (in a life.)
So here’s to going out of our way in little ways every day in the hope that any small act of service might make someone’s ordinary day an extraordinary one.