Back in November last year when my mum was in the hospital, I had made up my mind to sign up for blood donation as soon as I got back from the holiday. Accordingly, I called up the Canadian Blood Services (CBS) last week and got an appointment for today. I set off in my lunch break very eagerly and excited that I was going to do something "important".
After getting there and filling out a load of paperwork, I was told "Thanks, but no thanks".
Turns out, I cannot be a donor after all because I've had malaria. Formerly, CBS used to accept donations from people who'd had malaria because they would separate the blood and just not use the red blood cells part coz that's where the malaria bug (virus?) infects and it can lay dormant for up to 6 years. But they've since found that it is far more cost effective to simply turn down donations rather than have to dispose off the RBC component in a safe way. They did let me know that if the rules change, they'd call me back.
I totally understood the reasoning behind my donor rejection and it all made perfect sense when the nurse explained it to me. But still, as I left the clinic and stepped outside, the sharp wind that hit me was not as cold as the feeling I had deep inside that I'd just tried to do something nice, and failed. Rejection, is never a warm and fuzzy feeling.