Tim Malone.id.au

Needles make me faint.

I first found this out in grade six. We were heading to get those essential Hepatitis B injections, which required walking past many school buildings to get from our upstairs grade six classroom to the library. There, was a makeshift injection centre. This was going to be my first injection in many years – in fact, probably my first injection at school alone without my mum beside me.

I was feeling a little worried. That worry probably largely had something to do with the older kids telling me that I’d be able to feel the fluid pumping through my veins. I was told it would hurt more than any other injections I’d had before. And I didn’t really understand what it would be doing to my blood stream. I think as far as I was concerned, there was this fluid entering me and it wasn’t supposed to be there. It was certainly enough to worry an anxious 11 year old kid!

I got the injection. It pricked and hurt a little, but other than that I was fine. I waited about for about 20 minutes in the library as the rest of the class had their jabs, and we then took the walk back to the classroom. I sat down and quietly continued my work.

A short time later – probably about 5-10 minutes – the worry about the injection must have got the best of me. I started to feel a bit light-headed, and then pretty dizzy, so I got up to ask the teacher if I could take a rest. That’s all I remember… the next moment, everything was black and I could hear commotion: “Tim fainted! Is he ok? Tim, here’s your glasses.” It turns out I had started swaying as I was walking up to the front of the room, and I eventually went down in front of the blackboard, hitting my neck on the way down. Apparently my eyes were open – although I could not see. I could hear, but not respond. It took at least 20 seconds for me to come back into it, and I was probably out for around 20 seconds before I fell as well.

A similar episode happened some time later at home when I had to take a nasal spray. I had never taken a nasal spray before, and I thought it was a pretty weird place to be spraying something. Once again, I blacked out, walked and swayed for some time, and ended up on the floor.

After speaking to my doctor, it became clear that it was nothing in the medication or the injection that made me faint – it was simply psychological. I was scared about a procedure that I hadn’t had before, or didn’t fully understand, and perhaps, I just couldn’t cope with that.

This happened in grade six. But ever since, I have hated needles. I have been avoiding them wherever possible (including avoiding an injection I should have taken before a visit to Thailand). And when a jab was absolutely essential I would make sure I had a long period of lying down afterwards.

Whenever the question of donating blood came up, I’d say it’s not for me. I’m happy to donate my time and my money, but my blood? No, not if it requires a needle.

But… donating blood saves lives. I hadn’t really thought that being just a little uncomfortable for about twenty minutes, less than 5 times a year, could save people who I will probably never know.

And for me, it’s simply my view of the world that says to me: if it’s possible to donate my blood to benefit other people, then it is something I should be doing.

The other day, I took the interactive eligibility test – passed it with flying colours – and am now waiting for contact from a Red Cross Blood Service representative. My closest donor centre is in Ringwood, Victoria and I’ll probably be heading there real soon. I’ll just make sure I lie down for 20 minutes afterwards, and take the train home just in case.

World Blood Donor Day is Monday 14th June 2010. You can donate blood online at donateblood.com.au.