The last two weeks have seemed like one long buffet table such that I stopped tracking anything else. Then at one party my friend and fellow freelance journalist Scott McCredie inadvertently jogged my memory about a calendar entry. He commented that he and his wife rarely go out for breakfast any more because it’s gotten so expensive.
In response I started yelling “Blood drive. Blood drive” while hitting one of his upper arms. The connection, only obvious to me, was the next day’s Puget Sound Blood Drive at Ballard/Swedish and their incredibly reasonable, made-to-order omelets.
I try to be a regular blood donor but I’m too much a creature of impulse; which is why I’d noted the date posted in the elevator for the December 23rd blood drive in an attempt to plan ahead. Blood banks always need donations around the holidays and they have been struggling to refill their supply ever since storms kept so many donors away at Thanksgiving.
“They have great breakfasts in the cafeteria,” I told Scott (sometimes known as Mr. Eco-Mow). “Anything you want in an omelet for less than $3.75 before tax. Let’s give blood and have breakfast.” My only regret was that it was a Thursday rather than double shot Tuesday at the espresso cart.
Beware of two journalists at a mobile blood drive. Positioned on our backs on separate cots we each pursued conversations with our phlebotomists. Scott learned about hemochromatosis (an excess of iron in the blood) and the claim that regular donations reduce the risk of heart attacks in men. I was learning about new studies regarding the increase in potassium due to over-squeezing the ball during donation.
Eager to get to breakfast in the cafeteria we had to be coerced to sit with the volunteer by the cookies and juice. Prue, a veteran donor and volunteer, told us about a man who was planning to ride 30 miles to his home after donating (he was training for a triathlon). Having each donated our “pint’s a pound, the world round” we left further prepared to reap the rewards of donating blood. Certainly the blood could be used for someone in need because of accident, surgery or ongoing treatments, but I had presented the benefits to Scott as 1) losing a pound, and 2) being assured of a great night’s sleep. But at this blood drive the benefits proved to be so much more.
“Don’t forget your certificate for an espresso drink,” one of the blood center staff said. “And the free chair massage.”
Free chair massage? What this a spa day, or a blood drive?
We’d missed the breakfast special but the cook showed us a phone on the wall in the dining room. “Just call the kitchen and they can make you whatever you want.” Scott picked up the receiver and I nodded at his specifications, “onions, mushrooms, peppers…hash browns? Sure.”
While we waited for our omelets Dean made us our complimentary coffee drinks at the espresso stand, discussing the history of bone marrow transplants and the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center. Even as we prepared to sit down a woman had appeared pushing a cart with two covered dishes. Room service had arrived with nary a $5.00 banana. We shared hash browns while each devouring our $9 breakfast. “Isn’t this great?” I kept asking.
After breakfast we stood and watched part of the new interactive mural made possible by the late Marvel Kolseth: a driving rain drove rivulets down the glass windows of the sky bridge between the hospital and the new medical building. “What about our massages?” Scott asked.
The massages were available for all employees as well so we waited our time while talking to the Chiropractic Physician, Dr. Joshua Penner about his new practice, Magnolia Chiropractic & Massage. They have recently teamed with Puget Sound Blood Center to offer massages at mobile events as a way of encouraging blood donations and introducing their services. Dr. Penner noticed Scott favored one side as he stood and they began discussing Scott’s back injury and possible causes and therapies. Scott noted the Canadian in Dr. Penner’s phrasing.
It was my turn for a chair massage. Therapist Melissa was so slender that it didn’t seem possible that she could be so strong, or her hands so warm. She found the knot by my neck and delivered a massage that seemed so much longer than five minutes. I overheard Scott and Dr. Penner further discussing balance and proprioceptive nerves. I relaxed into a moment of stillness leaning forward on the chair, like a perfect oasis from the holidays.
Scott and I parted ways by our wet bicycles both locked to a parking sign on Tallman Avenue. We’d had our vitals checked and hematocrit tested. We had been educated, fed, caffeinated and massaged.
We went to give blood but it seemed that we were the ones who had received all of the gifts.