6 minutes 34 seconds.
That’s all it took for one bag of blood to leave my arm—and to turn intention into action.
I detest the process: the antiseptic smell, the sight of crimson filling a plastic pouch, the woozy post-donation wobble. Yet, five years in health-care operations has given me a first hand look at the very real need.
On a personal level,
Only 8 % of my blood left the building; my body starts replacing it within 24 hours.
Regular donation is correlated with increased healthspan – less rust in the pipes (lower iron), lower cardiovascular risk, etc…
But data wasn’t what got me in the chair tonight.
My father—who chose to donate his organs—set the bar for generosity. During a recent 90-day strategy retreat, I reviewed my “North Star”, my obituary, my build over the next ten years, the next year, and what I wanted to accomplish in the next 90 days.
One glaring line stared back on the community line: There is no excuse not to give blood.
Yes, drawing a pint will nudge my Berlin-Marathon training plan to the right. Yes, I needed the apple juice. Yes, I looked away when the needle went in.
But I’ll do it again.
Because community is a verb.
We take care of each other in the ways we can, when we can.
What discomfort do you need to face head-on?
Where can you take just a moment and make your community just a bit better?
It’s in us to give.
