There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a certain satisfaction one derives by doing a good deed. And the good feeling is enhanced when others notice it.<\/p>\n
So it was as I lay on a padded table at the United Blood Services lab in Santa Fe last week, donating blood as part of my three-times-a-year regimen. Of course, Las Vegas has its own blood drives \u00e2\u20ac\u201d one very successful drive for the motorcycle rally in the summer.<\/p>\n
I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know why I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve chosen Santa Fe as the place to make deposits; it might well be that I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m on a first-name basis with two of the phlebotomists who draw my blood. They\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re Connie and Jerry, each with more than 20 years\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 experience.<\/p>\n
Most of the time they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been successful in locating the proper vein in my arm, but on at least one occasion, when they looked for blood, they searched in vein. I read somewhere that giving blood is healthful on at least three scores: It earns me another t-shirt, with \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hero\u00e2\u20ac\u009d in bold red letters across the front; it sets a good example in an act that just might help another; and finally, I recall, for men it prevents excessive buildup of iron in our system.<\/p>\n
But I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll stop playing doctor, lest someone write to say my information on the third advantage is wrong.<\/p>\n
After the blood donation, the tech applies a stretchy bandage around the elbow. Connie began to wrap a purple bandage around my arm, but I pointed to the yellow bandages instead, explaining that yellow is a brighter color and therefore more noticeable. After all, what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s wrong with showing off a good deed which just might inspire others to donate?<\/p>\n
In spite of perhaps a 40-year history of donating blood, I haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t learned ever to feel comfortable with 1) looking at the needle as they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re inserting it into my arm; 2) looking at the blood. People sometimes pass out, although it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s never happened to me \u00e2\u20ac\u201d and that might be because I refuse to look.<\/p>\n
A few decades ago, the county health clinic was located at the front entrance to the courthouse. In those days, because of the threat of whooping cough, polio and diphtheria, most people received a yearly vaccination at the courthouse.<\/p>\n
My mom, Marie, had a devilish way of giving us five children a pep talk about what she called our \u00e2\u20ac\u0153special day,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d when Dad would borrow a car from Werley Auto and drive us to the courthouse for our shots. Mom\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s logic, on that special day, was to start with the oldest and strongest, Dolores, who set a good example. After her vaccination, she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d pass by me with the words, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s nothing to worry about, Mannie.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Next was Dorothy, the second-oldest, who simply had to be brave, to convince Mom that she was a \u00e2\u20ac\u0153mujerota,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mom\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s word for a brave daughter. Third in line was Severino, about whom I was convinced lived only to torment me. He had that devil-may-care attitude and look that said, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I love shots. In fact, why don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t you give me 10 more?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Of course, my brother\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s heroics were destined to earn him an \u00e2\u20ac\u0153hombrote\u00e2\u20ac\u009d label from Mom and Dad. What a man!<\/p>\n
Bingy was something else, ever ready with the waterworks. Now Mom\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s strategy about placing us from oldest to youngest didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t do much for my confidence when Bingy let loose with the laments. She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d say to the nurse, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Please be gentle,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m convinced the nurse ignored my sister\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s pleas, modifying the Brylcream slogan, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153A little jab\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll do you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Do we even need to write about my turn at the vac station? Well, since you asked, here goes:
\nBy the time the nurses got to me, their pleasant demeanor transformed to a Hells-Angels type, wielding a hypodermic whose business end was the size of a garden hose. Suddenly I imagined a huge tattoo on the nurse, bearing the words \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Born to Raise Hell,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d while on the other arm I read, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153No pain for you? No fun for me.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
As she approached, I visualized the needle taking on the size and shape of a medieval lance, with the nurse mounted on a worthy galloping steed.<\/p>\n
I too broke into tears, which quickly evaporated when I realize the ordeal had been over for a couple of minutes. Isn’t the mere anticipation of a vaccination usually worse than the deed itself? And yet, for years after our annual \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Special Day,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I was still able to detect the smell of rubbing alcohol in that part of the building.<\/p>\n
If you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re one who also had a \u00e2\u20ac\u0153special day,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d walk past that front office of the courthouse to determine whether any odors remain to bring back memories.<\/p>\n
The \u00e2\u20ac\u0153special\u00e2\u20ac\u009d part of that day was walking to what is now Plaza Drugs for an ice cream cone. As we sat there, Mom would bring out an ancient illustrated medical dictionary that showed, or at least described, alternatives to the yearly vaccination. She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d show grotesque photos and illustrations of patients being made to swallow emetics. At age 6, I think I would have preferred the yearly vaccination to the ordeal the patients in the dictionary underwent.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153And that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s what people have to go through if they refuse to take the shots,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mom would say.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a certain satisfaction one derives by doing a good deed. And the good feeling is enhanced when others notice it. So it was as I lay on a padded table at the United Blood Services lab in Santa Fe last week, donating blood as part of my three-times-a-year regimen. Of course, Las Vegas has […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":22,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[2],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1331"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/22"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1331"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1331\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1332,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1331\/revisions\/1332"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1331"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1331"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rezio.net\/woa\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1331"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}