Being A Bone Marrow Donor

I registered to donate bone marrow in March 1997. It was no big deal, mainly involved a needle stick. Being that I’m a vintage Negro of basic south Alabama heritage I thought it would only be a matter of time before I was a match for someone and would be called. Oddly enough, it hasn’t happened and now I’m getting concerned. What’s so weird about me and my bone marrow that it hasn’t been a match for anyone in thirteen years? I see black folk on TV all the time saying they can’t find a match. Why don’t I match any of these people?

The Red Cross acts like ghouls for my B- blood and harass the hell out of me, then complain when I donate because it takes so long. So I figured my bone marrow would be in high demand. Not so much it would seem. I’m fast approaching an age where I don’t think I want anyone digging holes in my hips. They need to hurry up if they want some of this vintage Negro bone marrow.

It’s really making me reconsider my decision not to keep Luke’s umbilical cord blood. We do have his baby teeth and I’m thinking about having them stored somewhere just in case the unthinkable of the world showing the frequency of the B blood allele among indigenous populations--it was absent in Australia, New Zealand, and most of the New World except for western Alaska; it was present throughout the Old World with its highest frequencies in Central and East Asia

ETA: Well, now I see the problem, I might as well get off the registry now. Nobody has my blood type in this country, though (quite reasonably) it’s fairly common in West Africa, and damned common in parts of the Indian sub-continent and Eastern Europe. (Interesting. Maybe that long ago ancestor was called “China Man” because he really was from China and not because he had “chinky” eyes. Then again, I could just have some of that much-vaunted “Indian” in me.)

Another blogger posted about having her ancestry traced through DNA. This is something I really want to have done. I’ve always had some interest in genealogy, and this might be a jumping off point for me. I think I’m the only one in my family with this interest, and I need to get on it before we all die out.

Oddly enough, considering how OCD I can be I never thought about this before. I just knew I was Rh-negative because they had to give me a shot after each of my pregnancies. I know Whit is O+, but I have no idea what blood type The Luke has. How remiss of me.

4 thoughts on “Being A Bone Marrow Donor

  1. I was on a bone marrow donor site yesterday trying to register but I flunked the health quiz. Apparently the scoliosis surgery I had at 13 makes me a high risk donor.

  2. Oddly enough I’ve always like the idea of donating something but I have chronic disease that keeps me from being a donor in most situations. Of course, I’d want to be a donor and not have the capacity, that ain’t saying alot. I also have a deep interest in tracing my family background. My mother has been saving forever so she can do it. I’d have to find a male from my father’s lineage to get his, he’s dead and we weren’t exactly close so I don’t know how exactly I’ll do that but I’m hoping to find it someday. I’m a history major, so it has fascinated me my whole life the origins of my family. My ex used to wonder why it was such a big deal and I told him, you know where you come from so you take it for granted, I don’t all I know is part of my family was brought here on slave ships to Philly and I think it’s tragic not to know the rest.

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