The first time I had blood taken, I was eight years old. I wasn’t donating. I was finding out if the tumor that was near my spine was malignant. I was blessed in the fact that it was benign, but I still had to get a surgery to remove it. Being the troublesome child I was, my favorite holiday (after my birthday) was April Fool’s Day, and I was disappointed to learn I would be stuck in the hospital during it. The Stanford Children’s Hospital was surprisingly pleasant, other than the ache in my back, of course. The nursing staff were all so friendly and being in a hospital of sick kids made me realize how lucky I was. Fast forward eight years and my High School, Leigh, was having a blood drive. I was so excited to get a chance to help, even of it was just a little bit. I’ve been trying to donate somewhat regularly since then, even though I’ve been deferred one or twice.