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Roger Rabbits with |
Most of us have our price, a breaking point where we can be bought and sold.
In this case the price was just $21.80.
A bribe, a sweetener – a $21.80 bowl of pork and prawn wonton noodle soup. And a side of hoisin bok choy at a cheap and cheerful “chinois”.
As well as the joy of slurping and slopping, and soy spatters on the shirt front, that $21.80, that bucket of pork and prawn wonton noodle soup could have saved a life. Certainly changed a few lives.
People like you and I needing emergency trauma care, major surgery, or ongoing treatment for serious medical conditions were helped by my investment in a soup. More than 10 years, 150 lives affected for the good. For just $21.80.
That’s a good return on good soup. Good because Chinese have been serving it up since the Qing dynasty in 1644. Wonton translates to “swallowing clouds” even though wontons resemble shrunken brains harvested from shrunken heads. That doesn’t assist enjoyment – so we will go with “swallowing clouds”.
Hocus pocus
Let’s unravel this story. A young man doesn’t like needles. Nasty, sharp, penetrating things. Trypanophobia it’s called – an irrational fear of injections or hypodermic needles. Causes anxiety and distress for 25% of us.
“Getting palpitations at the thought,” said Wuss. “And lightheaded.”
All because I suggested he join me for a “bloodletting”. That’s an ancient hocus pocus practice of draining a person’s blood because, apparently, too much caused sickness. I was suggesting a modern “bloodletting” – a noble procedure called phlebotomy, blood extraction for donation and transfusion.
Still an emphatic “No!” from Wuss, until he was bribed. A lunch. My buy. Pork and prawn wonton noodle soup. Suddenly, fears and phobias flew out the window. Because a poor, hungry student had a sniff of free food.
Pumping, gushing
“Nek minute” the palpitating, lightheaded one was lying on a flash ergonomic blood donor bed with a 18-gauge needle protruding from his median cubital vein. And the blood was pumping, gushing! Roughly one pint, 470ml, as much as 10% of his blood volume. He’d replenish it in month or so.
Then a bloke thing, a contest. Of course. We both frantically work the squeeze balls, which contracts the arm muscles, and in turn speed up the blood flow. Nothing at stake except bragging rights, if you fill the collection bag first.
He’s chuckling. He enjoyed winning, he enjoyed blood technicians fussing over this first-timer, and he scored a free lunch. Food over phobia. Wantons Wontons over weak knees.
That was 10 years ago. And he’s chuckling again, because not-so-Wussy-now has since made 50 Blood Service visits to donate plasma. “…. a vital contribution,” said his Blood Service certificate, “A priceless gift that can save lives,” said Rachel Bowman of the Blood Service. It was used to create 11 lifesaving products to treat 50 illnesses, from cancer and kidney disease to blood clots and liver failure.
N1
Fifty visits puts our “donor” in a tiny, highly committed percentage of the population who give which gives regularly, loyally. Makes him an elite, highly dedicated lifesaver. The NZ Blood Service likes his kind. “Thank you for your generosity and commitment,” Bowman said. “You should feel proud.”
“Glad to have helped,” smiled our donor.
Why do we do it? For our “donor” it was a “habit that became a selfless hobby”. He reckons we should all have a charitable outlet.
But while 88% of us think donating is a good thing, just 4% follow through. I enjoyed the technician exclaiming, “Oooh! That’s a lovely vein” just before he drained my lifeblood and whisked it off to perform its magic. I would feel a bit sanctimonious. But I also wondered if some poor patient had woken up unusually irritable, intolerant, craving a cold beer and yelling “Up The Wahs” because my cranky blood donation was messing with their metabolism.
Sloshing carwash sounds
Blood donating is not cheap. Not for me. Because not-so-Wuss and I have probably had as many visits back to that Chinese restaurant where it all started. There’s 120 items on the menu – roast duck on rice through steamed chicken on rice. But we never strayed from N1 – Prawn Wonton Soup with noodles. A nod to the NZ Blood Service. We walk in, mix chilli oil and soy sauce, grab an iced green tea, then 10 minutes of sloshing, carwash sounds as soup is gargled. No talk. Doesn’t need to be.
Donors tell of “treats” at the Blood Service – water, juice or tea to replenish fluids, a biscuit to boost blood sugars to avoid dizziness, lightheadedness. Must get a packet for Work Wife.
Go and give!
Now here’s a thought, a free and futile one. If the Blood Service wants to build on its 117,000 active donors, then throw around a few vouchers for pork and prawn wonton noodle soup. That’ll pull in poor, hungry, freeloading students whose goodwill can be bought and sold.
Give blood because you never know when you might need the favour back. Book via the NZ Blood Service app or website or call 0800 GIVE BLOOD