When giving blood, you don’t know who you may be helping

Each time I walk away from donating a unit of blood, like last Thursday, strong thoughts come back from a situation 35 years ago for me that, without blood donors then, I probably wouldn’t have survived.
    I had a complication during my last pregnancy that forced me to be hospitalized 40 days before my son was born. Placenta previa can result in very quick blood loss so I needed to be in a hospital that had round-the-clock surgery staff on duty. The day before my C-section was planned, the hemorrhaging started. Ten minutes later, and 4-5 units of my blood gone, he was born and everyone was eventually fine.
        The units of blood I received after the delivery were supplied by people I had never met. Without those unnamed donors, who knows? Let’s just say I’m happy, and so thankful, those volunteers donated blood when asked and took that hour out of their day.
    I made a pledge after that experience to become a blood donor and happily reached my 4-gallon landmark last week in Imperial. There were so many more at last week’s blood drive who’ve given much more than that.
    Some may think one unit of blood doesn’t make a big difference. I beg to differ. And so would those who’ve been in serious accidents, have a chronic illness requiring blood or another pregnant mom.
    None of us will ever know who we are helping when we give blood. If I knew the donors in my situation, I’d be thanking them often for letting me live the rest of my years.