Whose blood is about to become mine?

That was my thought each time I watched a nurse hang a bag of dark red substance on my IV pole.

Three years ago, I was diagnosed with synovial sarcoma, a rare soft tissue cancer. During the six months of chemotherapy that followed, I received 12 red blood cell and three platelet transfusions. A total of 14.2 pints, according to my medical records. The average human adult has 8 to 10 pints.

During the two to three-hour red blood cell transfusion, I thought about the strangers whose blood I was receiving. Were they kind? Would we be friends if we ever met? Do they know that the few minutes they spent at their local blood drive or donation center helped save my life?

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