How to give your precious bodily fluid (It doesn't hurt)

The front page story in the New Haven Register jolted my conscience: “Officials warn of blood shortage — worst in more than a decade.”

That story, written by Mark Zaretsky, told us about Nicole Donzello, who is battling a form of leukemia and says she would be dead if people weren’t donating blood.

But amidst the pandemic, blood donations have fallen sharply. America is seeing its worst blood shortage in more than a decade. Zaretsky quoted an American Red Cross official who oversees Connecticut saying it’s the worst blood shortage he has seen in his 10 years with the Red Cross.

Reading this, I knew I had run out of excuses. (This had been on my “to do” list for many moons.)

I’m “too busy”? No, I’m semi-retired, having voluntarily left my daily reporting and column-writing job at the New Haven Register more than a year ago.

I’m “not healthy enough”? Untrue. I’m in good shape. I’m a runner; I regularly get out there and do 3-5 miles.

I don’t think I had donated blood for about 30-35 years, and I’m not proud about that. I dimly recall lying on a cot at the old Red Cross building on Whitney Avenue in New Haven, alongside my buddy Ed Petraiuolo III and my wife Jennifer Kaylin. As far as I can remember, that was the last time I had stepped up.

I remember a conversation with my father John W. Beach decades ago when he learned I was not in the habit of donating blood. This had to be before 2005 because that’s the year he died. I can still see the puzzled, disappointed look on his face because he regularly donated his blood. I didn’t know how to explain myself. I felt guilty — but not guilty enough to do something about it.

Well, I read that front page story in late January and said to my wife (who had donated blood at her workplace in recent years): “We’ve got to give blood.”

Making an appointment was easy. I simply called the number listed with the newspaper story: 1-800-733-2767. (You can also go to RedCrossBlood.org).

We were told to report to the Whitneyville Cultural Commons in Hamden (formerly a church) on Friday, Feb. 11 at 1:15 p.m.

When we showed up we went to the basement, “The Whitney Room.” The room was populated by a half-dozen Red Cross workers in medical garb and some volunteers from the Hamden and New Haven Lions Clubs. There were several donors already on cots.

We answered some routine medical questions and then went to lie down and give.

Did it hurt? Nah. Just a little pin prick. And then for 8-10 minutes as my blood was being taken I felt some mild pressure on my left arm. It’s akin to what you feel when your blood pressure is being taken.

The Red Cross staffers were friendly and courteous. They kept up a light banter amongst themselves and with us. There was music being piped into the room. I enjoyed listening to, among other oldies, “Stand by Me” by Ben E. King and “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell. Aren’t those appropriate blood-giving tunes?

The medical staffers told my wife and me that both of us have O negative blood types. We learned that only a small percentage of people have this blood type, making ours especially important. Our blood would be used quickly.

After we were done, we were directed to a “recovery area” with folding chairs and a table of goodies. We were advised to hang out there for about 15 minutes. We were offered orange juice, Cheese-Its, Oreos and chocolate chip cookies. We were feeling mighty smug!

As we left, the Lions Club folks gave me a white carnation and my wife a red one. Miraculously, they are still alive, two weeks later — symbolizing how we helped keep somebody alive. We’ve got our carnations on display on our kitchen table. We feel good seeing them. They’re a reminder of what we accomplished.

I’m not going to wait 30-35 years to do this again. I’ll be going back a couple of months from now. You do have to wait at least 56 days between donations but then they’ll see my wife and me again at their door.

And what about you, dear reader? What’s your excuse?