Yesterday, I Donated White Blood Cells for a Stranger

Yesterday I did something that was not on my calendar, not something I planned for, and not anything that was remotely part of what I thought I would be doing on a Friday morning.

On Thursday, I got a call from the Blood Center – I had been matched and asked if I was willing and able to donate white blood cells. I immediately said yes without asking any questions. The conversation moved into the logistics of me getting to the center the next day, Friday. After looking at my schedule, I figured that Saturday would be less intrusive, since I had a few appointments already scheduled for Friday. I was told that if I could not do it on Friday, they would have to continue to search for someone who could donate then, as the recipient needed them NOW.

OK – Friday it is! I will cancel/reschedule my appointments.

If you know me, I usually donate platelets once a month. White Blood Cell donations are not as ‘simple’ as the machinery needed is at a donation center about an hour and a half away. They even sent a car to pick me up, which made it easier, but it still meant giving up a big chunk of the day. That is the part people do not always talk about. The help itself is one thing. The logistics are another. Doing the simple math in my head – a total of 3 hours travel time for a 2-hour donation. Well, it is what it is.

When I arrived, the reality of the process set in. This is not the kind of donation you do in ten minutes and then go about your day. The whole thing takes about two hours with a needle in each arm. Two hours of sitting there still. No scrolling around on my phone. No watching a movie on my phone. No, “I will just get up for a second.” I was there for the “long haul” with nowhere to go and no way to do anything with my hands (like even reading a book).

I’ll be honest: there is a mental hurdle in that. It is not pain exactly. It is the combination of stillness and time and the quiet voice in your head that says, I could be doing something else right now. I wish I could listen to a few podcasts. Oh, I have work to do… And to make it worse, the clock was directly ahead of me! I could see the time ticking along… and it felt like slow motion at times.

But that’s also where the meaning of what I was doing lives.

I said yes without knowing who the recipient was. And I did not need to know. It did not matter to me. It was an opportunity to help someone in need. That is the simplest form of selflessness I can think of. No spotlight. No applause. No social post required. Just a quiet decision to do something that might help another human being. (Yet, here I am, writing about it! More on that later…)

While I was there, I found out where my white blood cells were going. As soon as I was done, they were being transported over to Montifiore Hospital for a 28-year-old female.

Interesting.

Twenty-eight is not “somebody older.” It is not “a distant story.” It is young. It is someone who is building a life, making plans, working, loving, figuring things out, and suddenly needs help badly enough that my body can be part of her support system.

It made the whole day feel personal, even though I will never meet her. I do not know her name. I do not know what she looks like. I do not know what she is facing. But I know this: she needs white blood cells, and I had the chance to give them.

There is something humbling about realizing that you can be the answer to a need you did not even know existed. Something very rewarding. I konw that on Friday, I literally helped save someone’s life.

And there is something else about doing something that is purely for someone else.

No ROI.
No business outcome.
No “this will pay off later.”
Just service.
As the saying goes, “Do unto others as you want others to do unto you.”

When I got home, I felt tired, but it was a good kind of tired. The kind that comes from following through. The kind that reminds you that you are capable of doing hard things, even when nobody is watching. Doing the right things. Doing the things that would make your mom proud of you, if she ever found out.

I keep thinking about how easy it is to talk about being a good person, being generous, being helpful. And then life gives you a moment that asks, Okay, do you mean it? Here is your test – what are you going to do?

I think the first time I was tested like this was back in college when I lived on Fish B (the name of the residence Hall). There was a “suicide attempt” by a floor member, and I remember opening my door to find out what was going on and hearing about it. Someone had smashed his window and jumped. Holy Smokes! That was just too much for me. I remember closing my door – I wanted no part of that. And then, I had that thought, “What are you doing?!?! There is no hiding from this – you can’t stay away and pretend this is not happening. I grabbed a blanket (which was from then on referred to as the suicide blanket) and rushed out to help. That was a defining moment for me.

Yesterday, I got another such moment to help someone out, and I’m grateful I didn’t talk myself out of it.

If you have never donated before, here is my encouragement to you:

Start small.

Donate blood, if you can. It is one of the simplest, most direct ways to help somebody you will never meet. If blood donation feels like too much right now, do an act of selflessness. Pay for the coffee behind you. Shovel a neighbor’s walkway. Send an anonymous gift card to someone who has been having a hard time. Do something for someone without them knowing it was you.

Not because it makes you a hero.

Because it makes you a human person that cares. Here in the USA we need more humans helping each other.

And because the world needs more quiet yeses.

(Note – the image used here was generated and is for illustrated puposes only.)