While I was laying there, with a needle in my arm watching my blood flowing down a tube and into a bag, it struck me that, at the age of 31, I had never done this before.
But there I was, in St Paul's Church, Covingham, in the hall that I used to go to every week as a child for Boys Brigade and play football or hockey, doing something that I'd managed to avoid doing until then, something entirely new.
I'm not someone who is particularly scared of needles, and I've had plenty of injections so I knew I wouldn't mind the small amount of pain that comes with it, I guess I just hadn't gotten around to it.
I did know why I had finally decided to register to donate my blood - I had seen the news about the national blood shortage and wanted to help, and perhaps more importantly, my wife, who has spent the last year and a half working for the NHS, and has had her life saved by a blood transfusion, encouraged me to do it.
The first hurdle, which really wasn't very much of a hurdle at all, was trying to book an appointment. We started looking in November and initially, there were no appointments, then after waiting for a while the earliest appointment in Swindon was in January, which I booked.
Prior to the day, I had to fill out an online form answering basic questions about my sex life, my medical history, and my traveling, among other things.
On the day, I rocked up to the makeshift facility in the local church and was greeted by a friendly face. I had been eating and drinking regularly throughout the day beforehand, but I was asked to drink another pint of water and have a biscuit and fill out another form, and read over some information.
Then I was taken into a booth where I had to go through the answers on the form and have a finger-prick blood test to make sure I had enough iron in my blood for the real thing - which I did!
I was then taken to an adjustable chair and placed in a sort-of lying-down position. I was told I needed to do certain exercises to keep the blood flowing. My arm was cleaned, placed on a rest, and then the nurse found a vein and before I knew it I was giving blood, clenching my buttocks and raising my legs and feet into the air.
I had to repeat the exercises throughout until my bag, which was sat on a machine that rocked it slowly back and forth, was full which took a surprisingly small amount of time. Then I was sat upright by the nurse, who removed the needle from my arm.
After demolishing some crisps, another biscuit, and blackcurrant squash, and sitting for a little while, I was allowed to leave.
The whole thing was quick, simple, and felt safe, everyone involved was lovely and reassuring. There was some small pain, sure, but that paled in comparison to the feeling of doing something helpful and important.
A few days later I was told that my blood had been taken to Sandwell General Hospital in West Bromwich and it's crazy to think that someone 85.9 miles away might be saved by my blood.
I was also told my blood type - A positive - which I've learned is often used to make platelets for the treatment of cancer patients. Amazing.
I kicked myself I hadn't done it sooner, and I have already booked my next session, and all I can say is that I would encourage anyone reading this to consider doing the same.
If you'd like to learn more, or would like to register to give blood - please visit: https://www.blood.co.uk/
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