Could one extravagant pro-social act lead to me finally doing all the other ones I promised to do?
It’s great giving blood when you’re O negative. I do absolutely nothing to produce this stuff, I don’t even drink water very often, and yet I have these constant, positive interactions with the donation people. Every phone call starts with a five-minute introduction about how great I am. Every email has a heartwarming story about someone who needed O negative, and then got it, and now they’re alive, because of me. Sometimes they’ll randomly send me a badge or a plastic bracelet saying “first responder” on it, which makes me sound like a hero who ran, didn’t walk, towards an emergency, as opposed to what I am: a person who goes into town once every four months for 20 minutes of no-big-deal and gets given a pint of squash and an orange Club at the end of it. I love it. Last year, they asked me to go in on Boxing Day, and I said no, don’t be daft, it’s Boxing Day, and I still came away from that feeling like a king.
Then, this morning, I got an email with a slightly different ask: blood is great and all, but have you ever heard of a living organ donation? For instance, would you like to give away a kidney? It was a bit of a gear shift, somewhere in the region of: “Thank you for your direct debit of five quid a month, would you like to give us your house?” But I gave it due consideration. I know three people with only one kidney: one because she was born with a kidney problem; one gave his to his sister; one, I don’t know what happened to hers – it turns out this is the kind of thing you have to wait to be told.
