The J-TAC

Issue date: 9/13/07 Section: News

Media Credit: Kenneth Brisendine

"How are you?" the man in scrubs asked pleasantly.

"Nervous," I said. "I've never done this before."

He looked at my license. "You're over 20 and you've never given blood?"

I have a confession to make: I have aichmophobia. I am afraid of needles. Well, not exactly. A true aichmophobic can faint simply at the sight of a needle or may refuse medical attention altogether. I suppose the medical term for my condition would be "wimp." I am one of the people who shudder at the thought of needles, but can have a shot without having to be tied down if it is necessary.

"Researchers estimate that between seven and 22 percent of the general population has this degree of needle phobia," said an article from the April 13 issue of The Washington Post.

The only time I've had to deal with needles has been to get shots, and even then I have to talk myself into it days in advance. I have never given blood. I have never even had blood taken for medical tests. Needles have always bothered me, but whenever I have faced the music and gotten over my fear, the needles I have come across have not been as painful or traumatic as I built them up to be in my imagination. That is the way it was when I donated blood for the first time on Monday.

The American Red Cross and Tarleton's ROTC partnered up for a September 11 memorial blood drive in Ballroom C in the Thompson Student Center on Monday, and I showed up around 2 p.m. Once I had actually worked up the nerve to agree to let them take my blood I was almost turned away because of the amount of people who showed up, but they decided they had enough equipment for one more.

After filling out the sign-in sheet, a ROTC cadet who was helping handed me a binder with the Red Cross' qualifications. On the list were statements like "you may not donate if you have been diagnosed with HIV" and "you may not donate if you've taken a medication containing aspirin in the last 48 hours." After reading the qualifications in the binder, I waited my turn to talk to one of the phlebotomists-people who draw blood for a living-sitting at a computer station. He asked for my identification, and I handed it to him.

At this point they take your information and set you up with an account so they can keep track of your blood if something comes up in future analysis. They will do a test for anemia here, in which they prick your finger and take a small drop of blood to analyze. Anemia is something that I have always had to battle with, and it is commonly prevalent in women under 50.

Continued...

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