There Will Be Blood

OK, Ok, ok... Just a little pin prick. From Wednesday's Republican-American:

SOUTHINGTON -- Rob Brownell came with his mother to buy a couch, but he left empty-handed and a down a pint.

Brownell, a 20-year-old student from Avon, joined about 50 people who donated their blood at a Connecticut Red Cross drive at Bob's Discount Furniture Store in Southington Wednesday. But after back-to-back winter storms, the effort represented a few drops into a blood inventory that could use an infusion this holiday season.

“Every day we can't operate, we lose about 20 percent of our inventory,” said Paul Sullivan, the chief executive officer of blood services for the Connecticut Red Cross. “The storms represented nearly 40 percent of our inventory.”

According to the American Red Cross, someone in the country needs a transfusion of blood every two seconds, and only 5 percent of eligible donors give blood in any given year. Sullivan said his group tries to collect 650 units a day just to break even with the demand. But in order to supply the state's 30 acute care hospitals with the blood they need, Sullivan said his group imports about 10 percent of its supply from out of state.

And because of the snow and ice that mixed with holiday distractions, vacations and irregular routines, donors have been more scarce than usual, forcing Sullivan to order supplies of O-negative blood held back at the group's Farmington headquarters unless they are needed for transfusions. In addition, Sullivan said his staff will try to collect an extra 50 units a day to help bridge the gap.

“We're trying to collect over our normal goal at a time we usually collect below our normal goal,” Sullivan said. “I'm convinced if people in Connecticut understood how short we were, we would see them respond.”

Brownell said he understood, agreeing to join the Red Cross as a volunteer beginning with an orientation scheduled for Wednesday night. But first, there was the matter of a small needle and a bag of blood.

Brownell answered a Red Cross worker's confidential questions about his medical history in a private room in the back of one of two specially-outfitted buses parked in front of the store. Questions about malaria, jail time, syphilis and sexual activities with a risk of acquiring disease.
Larissa Finley, a 26-year-old phlebotomist, or blood-drawing specialist, directed Brownell to a cushioned reclining chair, where he lay back, rolled up his sleeve and stared out the window toward the parking lot.

“I hate blood,” he said.

Finley attached a blood pressure cuff to Brownell's exposed upper right arm and asked him to pump a red ball. She marked a vein in the crook of his arm with a purple marker, swabbed the surrounding area with yellow iodine and slid in a needle.

“Ohohoh-ow,” Brownell said with a soft groan, squinting his eyes and pursing his mouth before looking down to see a rush of dark red flow through a clear tube toward a bag hooked to scale near the floor.

After 18 minutes, some tube massaging, some red-ball twirling and some Welch's orange-drink sipping, Brownell filled the now-bulging bag with 1 pint of his blood.

“I feel empty,” he said.

Finley removed the needle, while Brownell held a gauze pad in place with his arm raised into the air. Finley attached a fresh bandage with strips of tape hanging from overhead lights, wiped off some of the iodine and gave him a list of instructions. He should drink extra liquids, keep the bandage on for five hours and avoid exercise.

Another Red Cross worker packaged Brownell's blood in ice for shipping to Farmington. A laboratory will test it for diseases before it can be sent to a hospital, separated into red blood cells, platelets (the cells responsible for blood clots) and plasma (the liquid in which the blood cells are suspended).

“You just saved three people,” Finley told Brownell before directing him toward a bin with cookies, crackers and chips.

Bob Kaufman may have saved many more than that. Kaufman, the founder and president of Bob's Discount Furniture Stores, has hosted blood drives for the Red Cross since 1996. Sullivan said Kaufman's efforts have brought in 20,000 donors.

“The American Red Cross has no greater friend than Bob Kaufman,” Sullivan said, noting all seven of Wednesday's drives were held at a Bob's store.

Kaufman said he began the drives as a way of being a good corporate citizen.

“What's a more universal way to do it than giving blood?” Kaufman said. “We all need it, can't live without it and there is no artificial substitute.”

About eight years ago, the effort became personal for him when his nephew and then his father [Dash] who have since died [Dash] were both diagnosed with blood diseases that required regular transfusions. Kaufman recalled accompanying his father for his treatments.

“He'd be lethargic, and when he came out, he was like a different person,” Kaufman said. “Like flipping a switch. I guess I understood it on a more personal level that giving the gift of life is real. It's not a cliché or a motto.”

Emily Ostroski would agree. Ostroski, a 25-year-old waitress visiting family in Farmington, gave blood for the seventh time Wednesday.

“I always thought it was important to donate something,” Ostroski said. “I can't donate money, because I'm always broke. So I donate blood.”

Ostroski said she liked giving blood because it is an anonymous gift.

And as she walked outside the store for her date with the needle, she said she wished she'd brought her stuffed animal. She would have had something to look at while giving her gift.