BLOOD

There is something very close to my heart that I think about a lot. Something that makes me emotional just talking thinking about it. Something I owe my life to. Make that someone. Make that five someones. Blood donors.

I donated blood once in my life. That was back in high school, and I did it to get out of class. I've never taken it seriously. Never thought about it. My husband donates all the time. The Red Cross calls here reminding him when the nearest blood drive is because he's a regular. I didn't see what the big deal was, and never really took the time to do it.

Then I needed blood. I needed a lot of blood. If I didn't get blood my heart was going to stop beating. I was dying. Five units of blood later- I was living again.

I often think of those five people. Did they know when they donated that they might be saving someone's life? Do they wonder where their blood went? Do they know I owe them my life? Am I the only life their blood has saved?

I often say a prayer for those five people, who I will never know. I ask God to bless them, and to watch over them. I pray that they will never need blood like I did.

I haven't been allowed to donate blood since my surgery. You have to wait a year after you get a tattoo, and it hasn't been a year yet. But, without a doubt, I will be donating blood every chance I get.