The Travails of the Student Blood Drive

Rushing like a chicken without a head from the 23rd street building to the VC campus, I was more than eager to be over and done with the blood donation. The notion that I would be saving lives by attending this student life blood drive did not leave much of a sentimental imprint in my mind. As I proceeded my way through the Vertical Campus turning corners left and right in order to follow the red directional arrows, I felt as if I had been placed in a simulated maze being taunted by some omnipresent force every step of the way. I eventually found the location, hinted by the presence of multicolored balloons placed outside the door. I took a long, deep breath and headed in. My mind felt cluttered and my stomach was turning, but not for fear of the sharp sterilized needle ready to prick me in my vein. I was juggling enough in my mind and desperately needed a way to decompress from my daily routine stress. How many papers need to be written, chapters to be read, and quizzes to be reviewed for? And just for this upcoming week. The dilemma I was forced to weigh in my mind at the moment was making it in time for Freshman Seminar. Leave it to me to fall into a scheduling conflict of that sort. Intermittently staring down my watch hoping time would move slower I filled out required paper work and then took a seat among the two dozen or so anxious students waiting to be called for their blood donations. The simple act of waiting is something most people dread. It forces you to break from productivity and give your mind a rest, something which does not hold as an option for people with jam-packed schedules. The wave of anxiety that overcame my body was my mind’s way of telling me that for the next hour or so I would have to just slow down and take it easy. This was the harsh reality. So reconciling the fact that I would miss this week’s Freshman Seminar and digesting the consequences that came with this realization I sat back and waited with all the rest of my fellow prospective blood donors. By the time my turn was called I had surrendered myself into such a passive and indifferent state that my mind openly welcomed the needle that was ready to collect a pint of my blood. I did not avert my eyes or flinch the slightest as the male nurse made a series of preparations which culminated in the slight jabbing of the sterile needle into my skin. I watched with utmost relaxation as the blood flowed through the long, thin tube that spiraled to the floor, little by little filling the empty plastic pouch. ‘What a strange shade of red’ I thought as I admired the color of my blood as it traveled from vein to tube. Within minutes my body and mind felt heavy. Nurses in multicolored smocks paced back and forth in my field of view, some indifferent, while some caring enough to ask about the wellness of my present state. I laid my head back and stared at the empty wall to my left. I felt defeated but that feeling was satisfying. I let the world and its chaos overtake me. Forced to stay still for the next twenty minutes there was nothing else I could do but surrender. Nothing could hurt me in this state of vulnerability, with this needle in my vein. Eventually I let my imagination wonder and thought of the possibility of a role reversal, where I was suddenly the trauma victim in need of this blood. As crazy as it sounds maybe this was the type of excitement my life has been longing for. Once my donation ended I was ready to jet out of that dingy place and resume to my formerly busy state. However, a friendly attendant acting as my temporary mother figure stopped me in my tracks and prodded me in staying for some juice and cookies. Although the idea was not in the least appealing, who could resist being smothered? Like an obedient child I quietly munched on my cookies and sipped my juice, all the while deadening my mind’s focus. As I let myself out of the Vertical Campus I deliberately neglected the fact that my studies were awaiting me in the library across the street. Instead I wandered carelessly in the busy Manhattan streets without a thought in my head. My previous anxiety was no longer with me however. I allowed myself for once to just live and let go.