I donated blood Monday night at my church. Since I’m a “universal donor” (O-negative? O-positive? I can never remember), they asked me if I would be a “Double Red” donor.
This is a new thing, and very cool. They hook you up to a machine, and they take two pints of blood, rather than the usual one. They keep the platelets and return the serum , with a little extra saline to top you off. In this way they get twice the usual amount of the really good stuff, and you don’t get all dehydrated. And, you still get the juice and cookies afterward. Yay!
It takes a little longer than giving whole blood (okay, twice as long, but what’s another twenty minutes?), and they double the length of time you must wait before you can donate again, which is alright with me – it’s more efficient this way. I give the same amount of stuff, with fewer visits.
Tuesday night, I went to Kung Fu class, as usual (you can see where this is heading, right?). The drill this time was partner-work: you charge at your partner as if you’re going to knock him over. He pivots out of the way, trapping your outstretched arm and doing cool Kung Fuey things to you along the way. Most of the time, you end up on the ground. Then you switch roles, back-and-forth, charge-and-throw. It’s great fun, great cardio exercise, and a good time is had by all.
Heh. Except for the part where I have one-sixth fewer platelets than I usually have. As I understand it, platelets are the guys who transport oxygen around, right? Fewer platelets, less oxygen. Less oxygen, less cardio for Genghis Bob. About three minutes into my usual gung-ho charging and throwing, I got winded. Real winded. Five minutes in (I wasn’t smart enough to dial-back), I got woozy (that’s a technical term). And clammy. And sweaty.
Another student who was watching remarked “you know, Mr. Bob, you just got awfully white.” This coincided with my decision to sit down, rather than fall down.
So went the evening. I slowed my charges to a nice geriatric pace, but even so I had to stop several times during the hour to catch my breath and still my heart. My partner, a very fit twenty-something, did jumping jacks and squats to keep his cardio up and stave off boredom. My Sifu, after ascertaining that I wasn’t dying, let us regulate our pace.
The whole experience was pretty interesting. I’m in generally good shape, cardio-wise (*real * good shape, compared to most folks my age). I’ve worked out past exhaustion before, and I know what it feels like – I’ve hit the wall before, and pushed past it (that’s half the fun). But I’ve never had the wall be so proactive as to rush up and hit *me * before. And when the wall hits you, there ain’t no hitting back.
I like donating Double Red – it makes me feel more useful somehow, and the nice Red Cross people sure seem grateful. Now I’m monitoring my cardio, to gauge when I’m a fit partner in the dojo again. I’ll be interested to see how long it takes to get back to “regular”.
