When I know I saved up to three lives yesterday, I can look back on it and say yes, I had a good day.
In my son, Nicholas’ short, but well-lived life, he saved many more than three lives. Nick believed in giving blood, and gave as often as the blood bank allows. Because he was a big guy, he gave the double dose and wore his T shirts proudly.
In Conway, Arkansas, where Nick studied at Hendrix College, he served as a regular blood donor. At the community blood bank there, staff members sent postcards when a donor’s blood significantly impacted the life of another. Nick received many postcards and delighted in phoning me with news that an accident victim was able to receive his blood. He had O positive blood, a universal blood type that is always in need.
I rejoice at the thought of his blood coursing through the veins of people whose lives depended on it, and I am glad Nick gave so willingly. Terrified of needles as a child, I have watched him tense his muscles enough to push a vaccine shot out, but as a young adult, he had no problem rolling up his sleeves to donate. After spending a summer with us in China, he counted the days before his blood would be cleared and eligible to donate again. I will never forget him non-chalantly telling about donating a double when the needle slipped from his vein and shot through his arm under the skin. He described the experience as cool and continued to tell me about his day.
Until yesterday, I had never given blood. In college, when many of my friends donated plasma, I did not meet weight requirements; I was too petite. Later in life when weight requirements were no longer a problem, schools where I have worked held blood drives, but I felt I might be lethargic or woozy and unable to teach afterward.
My excuse bank ran dry this week when visiting my sister, Joy in Ohio; she reserved space for me to give at her church’s blood drive. The summer of 2009, when Nick stayed at her house, he volunteered at this blood drive with her. She wanted me to give in his honor, and I could not refuse. The 53-questions were more amusing than daunting, as I have never received money for sex, nor have I served time in prison. The nurse pricked my finger and I was glad to see my blood held enough iron to donate, so I hopped up on the gurney to contribute in a way so many have before me.
I would like to say that giving blood was easy, but on the five-month mark from his passing, the needle felt the least painful.
As the blood left my body and filled the bag, tears flowed for the loss of my son. I felt the familiar and sorrowful pangs of his absence, but also felt great joy at knowing I could continue his wonderful legacy in this way. When a life is saved by my blood, I will also honor the fine life of Nicholas and the giving practices he passed along.
Roger and I have both agreed give back to the community that gives so much to us, and honor our boy in this way. When each of you gives blood, please remember this giving and gentle man who gave so much to so many.
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