What blood donors mean to me as a transfusion recipient

Blood donors are silent heroes who aren’t recognized enough. As someone who’s received many blood transfusions, I couldn’t help but wonder how we got to this point of safely sharing healthy blood in hopes of saving lives.

According to the American Red Cross, the history of blood transfusions began in 1628, when physician William Harvey discovered the circulation of blood. Shortly after, the first blood transfusion was attempted.

The first successful human-to-human blood transfusion was performed by British obstetrician James Blundell in 1818. The different blood types were discovered at the beginning of the 20th century, and in 1948, the Red Cross opened its first blood collection center in Rochester, New York, marking the first nationwide blood program for civilians. Many more advances have occurred since then.

Blood donors are just one example of how much we need one another. We’re all connected somehow — one person lends a hand to another, just for someone else to lend a hand to them.

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My experience with transfusions

When I reflect on my diagnoses of aplastic anemia and paroxysmal nocturnal hemoglobinuria, I don’t know where I’d be without dedicated blood donors. I’ve received countless transfusions over the years to help manage my blood disorders, and with every bag, my family and I give thanks for the unknown donor, who has blessed me in more ways than they know.

I remember receiving my first blood transfusion. I wasn’t feeling well one day, so I had blood work done. By that evening, I was feeling so sick that I went to the emergency room (ER).

I was immediately shown to the back, where the staff went over the results of that day’s blood work. At the time, I had no clue what any of it meant. I’d always been a healthy person. But I was told that my blood counts were so low that I should’ve been unresponsive; the doctor was stunned to see me walk into the ER that night.

Then it was like everything sped up, moving in fast motion. I was given paperwork to sign and told that I needed two bags of blood and one bag of platelets to bring my blood counts back to normal. After signing all the forms, I watched as the nurse began preparing my arm for a transfusion.

Before I knew it, the blood was flowing through the tube and entering my vein. I was in shock. I remember wondering, “How am I the one who needs a blood transfusion?” I never would’ve thought that this treatment would be part of my life.

After my diagnosis, I went on to receive many more blood and platelet transfusions. It became normal for me to receive a bag of each. Afterward, I always felt better and had a boost of energy. I’d keep fighting to maintain my health and well-being until my blood counts showed me I needed another transfusion.

I’m so thankful for blood donors. It may seem easy for them to donate blood, but as someone who’s received countless transfusions, I know the value of their selfless act. The way they help others doesn’t go unnoticed.

Note: PNH News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of PNH News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to paroxysmal nocturnal hemoglobinuria.

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