Adventures in Blood Donation

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Last week I went to give blood and got considerably more than a thank you and a can of cranberry juice.

I’ve donated many times before and this time all the usual things happen – proper predonation food and water intake at lunch, intake assessment all fine (blood pressure a healthy 100/70-ish), no problems with the needle stick, outflow, or post-donation wrapup. So it’s time to get up and go to the table and chairs at the far end of the room for the snack and drink before leaving.

I sit up slowly, dangle my feet for a bit, and carefully slide off the table – I do have mild positional vertigo when I get up from lying down; at age almost 69 I expect it, it’s no big deal. I lean lightly on the table waiting for the short bit of vertigo to go away.

It does not. I lean harder on the table, my forearms braced on it, wondering why it’s taking so long. The attendant watches me closely. Another staffer brings me one of those little cans of cranberry juice and they ask me how I’m feeling. I’m not feeling so good, to tell the truth, but “Just a little positional vertigo, I’m sure it will go away…”

Someone says “Let’s get you a chair.” “Oh, no, I’m sure it’s nothing…”

blink

I’m sitting in the chair, the juice can has vanished, and three people are standing around me bracing me. Now I’m definitely not feeling right, but what the heck…? “Better get a table,” one says, and one leaves and comes back pushing a padded donation table. “I don’t really think I need to…”

blink

I’m lying flat on my back on the floor, knees raised, feeling weak and light-headed. Cold wet compresses lie across my forehead and neck. A staffer is sitting beside me, gently rocking my knees side to side. “Don’t try to get up. Just lie still and take your time.” She continues rocking my knees and watching me. Gradually the out-of-it feeling ebbs away. When she’s satisfied my color is better (apparently I’d gone ghost-white, lips and all), she gets up but tells me to continue lying there for a bit longer.

After a few more minutes I’m definitely feeling better. She and another staffer help me up and the two walk me down to the recovery area, prop me on a padded table with my back against the wall, hand me another can of cranberry juice, and leave me to continue my voyage back to normal (while keeping an eye peeled my way).

Another five or ten minutes later I’m fine – other than the mental anguish, of course, but physically everything’s functioning, so with their approval I put on my jacket and go home – where I discover one of the fun things about passing out that they never show you in the movies:

I’d pissed myself. Yup, it seems that bladder control is one of the things that’s rendered inoperative when you faint. Who knew? Not me, anyway. Good thing I’d peed just before donating, so the flood wasn’t much, and I was wearing dark pants.

I feel a bit dragged out and slowed down but otherwise all right for the rest of the day. I go to bed early and sleep nine and a half hours, and feel okay but tired for the rest of that day. After that I’m totally back to what passes for normal at my age.

So, that was my big adventure in Red Cross Land. I’ve been a donor for many decades and this has never happened to me before. Now I’m spooked, though, and wondering whether I should ever risk donating in the future. I sure don’t want to go through that again.

2

I got dizzy once after donating. I sat up on the table, and everything started to spin, and sort of blink black and yellow. I said “I don’t think I’m ready to get up after all.” The nurse (or whatever she was) lay me back down, and they brought my OJ with a bendy straw so I could drink it lying down. I did, slowly, then asked if I could have some water, because suddenly I was overcome with thirst. I had about 8 ounces of water, and lay there maybe five more minutes. Then I got up, left, and was fine.

I had donated a dozen times before that, and have donated I don’t know how many times since, before I had to stop, because of a medication I started taking (I got a gallon pin before I had to stop). I never did know why I had trouble that one time. But it was a fluke. My blood pressure was on the low side or normal, like 100/55, but it was always around there. My iron was good, because I always took an iron pill before I donated.

Anyway, it’d true I was in my 20s when this happened, not 69, but if I were in your place, I’d give it one more shot. I’d be sure to tell them what happened, just so they’d give me a little extra table time before getting me up. I’d make sure I peed before I donated, and maybe even wear a pad (don’t know how that works for men, which from your name, I’m guessing you are).

If anything untoward happened again, then I might give it up, but if I had a good day, then I’d be satisfied it was a fluke.

3

Happened to me once when I was a strapping lad of about 23-24, taking hours of karate every week and in the best physical shape of my life. I donated blood after doing everything right except eating anything at all or sleeping the night before. Who knew those things were important?

In my case, my peripheral vision became…less important to me, and gradually I had tunnel vision, and then everyone was standing horizontally around me (Because I was then on the floor on my back looking up).

My back was freezing cold and nobody would let me move – so, naturally, I concluded I’d suffered a spinal injury and would probably be paralyzed. Eventually it turned out to be nothing so dramatic – as I’d started slipping to the floor, someone had grabbed my shirt, and I’d simply slid out of it and was lying bare-backed on the linoleum.

I have donated since, but not very many times, and I’ve been hesitant each time.

4

I faint just thinking about it. No, seriously my friend was donating and I went along to drive her home. I didn’t donate, but I fainted & ended up on a table drinking juice. Friend had to drive both of us home. What can I say? I don’t mean to be this way, I just am.

5

Nope, I be of the female persuasion, the E, T, and F referring to now departed orange tiger boy cats I adopted from a local rescue in one furry clump when they were four months old. I do wear a panty liner and if I decide to try again, besides voiding preemptively I may try donning a super-absorbent pad, just in case. :wink:

6

I haven’t fainted, but the most adventurous moments were when I used to do pheresis and the tube would explode inside the machine. They’d open it and it would be a bloodbath in there! :eek:

7

I used to work as a volunteer at a blood donation center many years ago.

It happens.

Usually, with someone healthy, it’s a one-time fluke but that is why they tell you to sit up slowly and take it easy, and sit down and drink fluids. If it’s a big concern ask your doctor next time you see him/her and ask if it’s OK for you to continue donating.

Most likely it’s a one time occurrence.

8

I’d like to think it’s a one-off, since I’m reasonably healthy for my age, no big issues; but I have had some heart issues in the last few years, so I’m a bit spooked.

I’ve probably pumped out my gallon over the years, so maybe I’m entitled to retire from donating? (Wish I could afford to retire from working, sigh.)

9

Was anything different about the act of donating? Do you normally watch the blood being drawn? Did you watch it this time?

Reason for asking: Some people, myself included, have an involuntary reaction to the sight of their own bleeding - it’s not fear, it’s just something deep in the brain that triggers at the sight of blood - to begin with, I used to get it even if I had to have a very small amount of blood drawn for a test or something - I would get tunnel vision, my extremities would start to buzz and I would feel like I was going to collapse.

Over time, I have conditioned myself not to be triggered - each time I went to donate, I just allowed myself to become a little more aware of the process, until now, I can watch it all happening without any problems. It was never associated with any kind of fear or emotional reaction - it was just completely involuntary faintness, brought on by the stimulus of seeing my blood leave my body.

10

It happened to me once and only once, too, but in my case it was when I was maybe 18. I’ve given many, many times since then with no problem.

That said, if you’re in your late 60s, well, maybe you should consider stopping. “Healthy for your age” is not the same thing as “Healthy”. But I am not any sort of medical professional.

11

Absolutely no difference from any other time donating, and I didn’t watch the needle go in, but that wouldn’t have bothered me anyway, nor does the sight of blood. It’s just inexplicable why this time.

12

My thoughts exactly. I’m due for an annual checkup in early spring and I plan to run it by my PCP and see what he says.

13

Most of the time I do what the American Red Cross calls a “Power Red”, a double red blood cell donation. While this takes double the volume of red blood cells as a regular blood donation, because the plasma is replaced the total blood volume loss is less. This definitely has less of an effect on me than the normal whole blood donation. You might try a Power Red next time to see if keeping the plasma helps your hypotension.

I still do a normal whole blood donation periodically, because the time between Power Red donations is 112 days, but you can’t give a Power Red more than three times a calendar year, so it sometimes lines up that way.

14

I did do a Power Red once some moths ago, which has this advantage: They keep you sitting up, so you can read while the process is going on. :slight_smile:

On the other hand, every time I had to chew those calcium tables I got a weird tingling sensation and I did not like it. :frowning:

15

I think I posted this before…

When I was about 17-18 I went with my father to his union to donate blood. It went well, and after donating we both walked out of the room.
The next thing I know I was at the bottom of a flight of steps, and had (sorry!) thrown up. It seems I fainted at the top of the stairs, and luckily didn’t break anything on the way down.

The worst part was everyone passing by as I lay on the floor, congratulating my father on his compassion for taking care of “the poor drunk girl” who fell down the stairs.

He never told them I had just given blood, or even that I was his daughter. I had embarrassed him, so he was just happier to play the concerned stranger.

16

They don’t let me donate anymore, after giving gallons it’s been decided that I’m too much a risk for swiss cheese brain disease from eating British beef on an American military base in Germany in 1981. But I remember back in the day, when the proffered beverages included a beer. I always took 'em up on that.

17

Fair enough - just thought it worth asking.

Interestingly, it’s never actually bothered me either, at a conscious level - when it happened, I was calmly watching, thinking “hey, this is a cool thing to watch” and was abruptly overcome with a wave of physical faintness and extreme nausea - I assumed this was a symptom of the illness that they were taking blood to test for, not an effect of the actual blood-taking itself - but the nurse assured me it’s quite common.

18

Nothing particularly dramatic, but once a bloodmobile was on my college campus so I stopped of to donate between classes and went to my next class. I happened to be wearing a light jacket with burgundy sleeves at the time, and when I sat down at my desk before class began, I noticed that my whole sleeve on the donating arm was wet (but the color was too close to blood color to be noticeable.) I left the class before it began and went to the nearest restroom (only something like 20 feet from the classroom) and found that my sleeve was soaked in blood, but the puncture had stopped bleeding by that time, so nothing more needed to be done. (Well, nothing more needed to be done to me–had to spend some time washing the worst of the blood off my arm and sleeve in a sink.)

19

I used to donate until age caught up with me. I’ve never had any trouble but one time a woman and I were chatting as we waited out the fifteen minutes after donating. Suddenly she broke off, said, “Whoops,” and had just enough time to lay her head in her arms before she was out cold. She didn’t have any time to be fussing with balance so immediately began sliding sideways like the proverbial sack of grain. I jumped up and grabbed her torso on each side just under her arms which slowed the slide down enough that the nurses on the spot a moment later could arrest it entirely and ease her to the floor.

I sat back down gasping while they elevated her legs and put a small pad under head so her noggin had a little relief from the hard floor. It wan’t nearly as dramatic as the OP. No fluids were administered and ten minutes later she was back in her seat. She said she was a ten gallon donor and that had never happened before. I stayed extra until she was ready to leave, just in case. It made a believer out of me; since then I never cheated on waiting out the recovery period no matter how pressing the wait was.

20

Huh. I’m always sitting up, even for a regular whole blood donation. Back years ago when I did pheresis, it was a needle in each arm so no way to turn the page! Then they switched to one needle for the draw and return, which was nice. But my returns never went well so that’s why I switched to just the whole blood donation.