The One Where I Get To Save A Life

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and a bit of #cancerptsdstraight talk

Please excuse the lateness of this publication–I wrote it before I went and then wondered if I would chicken out . I didn’t so here are my thoughts prior to donating life saving convalescent plasma to someone suffering from covid.

If you have followed me for awhile you know I am all about finding the bright side. I like to find the “given with the gift” as Sister Margaret said to me all those years ago.

You can read more about me finding the gift here and here the second link is a doozy but sums up how I look for the good in every thing —I am looking for it right now with Covid.

I may have mentioned my joy at having a full house again. Sure the laundry is never ending and the pressure to make dinner and make it interesting is sometimes overwhelming. When that happens we order in. The girls are getting really excellent time together at a stage when they wouldn’t have if life were the way it was. I love spending extra time with them and sharing in their plans and creativity.

So back to the PTSD which I know got your attention. Two months ago…wow…yes, two months ago I was recovering from covid and tossed my name in the hat to donate plasma. Because I can. I have been called by the red cross 4 times regarding my donation. Each time the questions are the same and each time I repeat exactly what I told the last person.

“Last fever March 27. Last cough before April 10 because I wondered if taking yoga online was going to make me cough.”

Each time I get off the phone I cry.

The first time I really sobbed. Then again and again. Each time they call. If you want to understand a bit more about Cancer PTSD read this blog of mine here

No one can go with me. I have to go alone. The process takes an hour and a half. Needle in my arm They take my plasma and give me back my blood. I will be wearing a mask.

Everyone will be wearing a mask.

For some people donating blood or getting an infusion is no big deal. But in my mind I am finding myself back in the chemo chair, where I was never alone. Mom was there. Christopher was there. Friends visited and I knew all the nurses. I still tear up when I have blood tests done. Cancer PTSD. I am tired of being messed with. And to tell you the truth, I am much more of a wimp now than I was then.

I will focus on one thing for Tuesday.

Tuesday I get to save someone’s life.

Wow. I mean really, wow. I get to save someone’s life. On Tuesday. The plasma is taken from me and whisked off to a hospital in LA and put into someone within several hours.

Tuesday I get the honor of saving someone’s life.

I have never done that before.

I know I have sent women for mammograms and taught breast self exams to thousands and I know a couple who saved their own lives as a result. I am scared. I am nervous. But I can do this. I don’t want to chicken out.

On Tuesday my blood plasma will save someone’s life.

This is one heck of a given with the gift isn’t it? And though I will never know who I save, I will know that I save.

And 28 days later—I can do it again.


If you have had covid please contact the red cross to see about donating. Also UCLA and many other hospitals will welcome your donation. Please go to to learn more.

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