When was the last time you did something for the first time? Life is hallmarked by a number of “firsts,” and as we get older we take our experience and wisdom for granted. We get comfortable. Been there, done that.

I recently had a “first” that on the spontaneous side was something I hadn’t ever given much thought of doing. It took me 36 years to finally donate blood and, once I walked in and caught a whiff of rubbing alcohol, a smell so closely tied to the nightmarish childhood memory of vaccination panic at the pediatrician’s office, it took about 3.6 seconds before I thought I would surely run away.

You see, as far as reporting on the news, January can be sluggish. It takes time after the holidays for the pace to pick up again, and I was feeling the strain after weeks of scrounging around Tri-Town looking for anything on which to report.

On January 28, I discovered it was Blood Donor Awareness month when a big Southcoast Hospital medical bus parked itself in the Tedeschi’s parking lot next to my office. How about a nice “first time” story, I asked myself. There was an ah-ha, followed by an uh-oh; you’re giving blood today, Jean.

I’m not afraid of needles, but I score highly on the queasiness scale. I get faint at the sight of another’s infected hangnail. I panic during gory scenes of movies, and the compulsive mutilation anxiety that ensues lingers into the hours that follow. And recent images of bloodshed across the world in places like the Middle East, Sudan, and Myanmar are enough to send me into an existential panic.

It wasn’t the pain of a little needle prick that made me uneasy about giving blood; it was the squeamishness given by mental images of blood-filled bags, and the over-all idea of walking around with a decreased volume of blood in my body.

I thought up excuses like, oh, this is going to take too long, and well, they have enough people here today donating blood, they don’t need me.

On the other hand, I thought to myself, think of the story you can write. Don’t be a baby, later you can brag about how you survived your first bloodletting. I was beginning to feel a little selfish and disingenuous, realizing my insincere intentions were not aimed at helping people, per se, but at finding material for a story and perhaps the reward of some recognition. I was unaware of the impact the experience would have on me, and how a new perspective from which I would view the very simple, painless act of donating my blood would later emerge.

I listened to the nervous banter of a young woman reclined on a bed, midway through giving blood as I waited there, seated nearby her. It was her first time too, and she brought a friend with her to keep her occupied while she shared a pint of her life juice with a stranger.

Minutes later, in a tiny room the size of an airplane bathroom, my intake interview was going well, having given the correct answers for all of the intake person’s questions about any body piercings and tattoos over the past year, or extended stays in countries known for mad cow disease – all factors that could taint the donatability of my blood. The only thing left between that needle and me was, well, another needle – one to prick my finger for the hematocrit test to check the percentage of red blood cells. That test I barely passed, being at 38 – the absolute minimum for which they will allow a person to donate blood. Anything less than that is considered anemic.

I was going to be cool while they took my blood. No nervous chitchat from this girl. I felt calm looking out the window at the brilliant sky and the trees glistening with fresh snow, and my thoughts turned to the beneficiaries of my blood. One would receive the plasma, another the platelets. Would they be good people? Would I ever pass them out there somewhere, unaware that a bit of me flowed through their veins, eternally and physically connected to me ever so unsuspectingly? Really deep thoughts for such incongruous intentions.

I made it through giving the full pint. I felt a little faint toward the end as my blood pressure decreased slightly, and I breathed through the initial panic so I could stick it out – the story needed a better ending than, “my donation was incomplete.” The juice and cookies brought the color back into my face, and within a couple minutes I was driving off.

It really was no big deal.

Giving blood remained in the forefront of my mind for the rest of the week. Blood, blood, blood. I thought a lot about it. Its essentialness to biological life and its symbolism in religion, mythology, literature, and psychology. It appeared redder in photos of injured and dead bodies as I scrolled through a photojournalism website later in the week, looking at the latest genocidal atrocities in Myanmar. It was just before bed, and I should know better by now than to be looking at this stuff so late at night. A wave of sorrow and hopelessness washed over me as I looked through the all too-vivid photos before me and all the spilt blood. It was then that my redeeming realization came to me like a life raft, rescuing me from drowning in a wave of grief.

Donating blood isn’t a “no big deal” act at all. It is actually a pretty big deal, looking at the big picture. During a time of so much bloodshed, you can willingly give some of your blood so that others can live – the exact opposite of the act of killing, and perhaps a viable solution for when you feel like there is nothing you can do to change things.

Giving blood is a painless, easy, and instantly gratifying way of giving thanks for what you have, and for sending love and life out into the world. I suddenly could not wait to do it again in eight weeks.

I went into my son’s room, kissed his sleeping face, and felt thankful for the warm, safe place to tuck him into at night. My blood-donating story was moving in a new direction now, away from the step-by-step how-to story on blood donation and more toward something more important, with a new sense of urgency to report to you that humanity needs your blood!

“There is never enough,” said Anna, the Southcoast worker who drew my blood that day. She told me the South Coast region uses roughly 1,200 pints of blood every month. On January 28, one hour before the blood drive was over, I was only the seventh pint collected, despite thousands of people who drove past the bus that day.

I urge you to donate blood. Do it at least once. Donating blood is a donation of pure life. Think about that.

The blood bank at St. Luke’s is located just off the hospital’s main lobby at 101 Page Street in New Bedford. For more information, you can call 508-961-5320 or visit the website, which has everything you need to know, including the hours of operation, and the Southcoast Health Van dates and locations. There will be a blood drive on February 14 at Rosebrook, at 100 Rosebrook Way in Wareham. http://www.southcoast.org/bloodbank.

By Jean Perry

If you were anywhere other than the Old Rochester Regional High School auditorium the afternoon of February 2, then you missed a superb performance by the Tri-County Symphonic Band presenting its lively “Con Spirito” program, delighting the audience with a brilliant selection of songs performed by a very talented group of musicians.

“You are in for a special treat,” Announcer and Trumpeter Roger Haber told everyone at the start of the show. “I understand that there’s some football game on this afternoon,” he said facetiously. “Well, no Patriots, so no hurry. But we’ll be out of here in time.”

The band’s first selection, “Festive Overture” by Dmitri Shostakovich was exactly as the program described, “… grandiose, lyrical and playful … under waves of high spirits …”

Under the direction of Philip Sanborn, the band performed Antonin Dvorak’s “Symphony No. 9 in E minor, From the New World,” a song easily recognizable to any inexperienced symphony-goer.

Trumpeter Edith Pliskin received applause in recognition of her 94^th birthday next week. During intermission, when asked her secret for longevity, she simply replied, “Keep doing what you’re doing. What you love doing.”

The symphonic band also played selections by Mozart, Reed, Copland, and Holst, joined by Robert Marlatt on French horn. Marlatt is a prominent horn player in the Boston area, having performed with the Boston Ballet Orchestra, the Opera Company of Boston, and a significant number of philharmonics and symphonies throughout New England.

The Tri-County Symphonic Band is in its 52^nd concert season and is an organization of talented musicians from Plymouth, Bristol, and Barnstable counties performing classical, semi-classical, and contemporary music.

The Tri-County Music Association, Inc. supports the symphonic band and also encourages young instrumentalists though music study grants and scholarships. In total, the Association has awarded $12,000 in funding to young musicians in 2013. You can find more information at www.TriCountySymphonicBand.org.

The Tri-County Symphonic Band’s next performance titled “New York, New York” will be held at Tabor Academy on Sunday, March 16 at 3:00 pm. Tickets are $10 for adults, $5 for students, and children 12 and under are free.

By Jean Perry

The Mattapoisett Public Library celebrated National Take Your Child to the Library Day this Saturday, February 1, with an entire day filled with special activities for children. All day long, a steady stream of kids enjoyed activities such as a library scavenger hunt, playing chess, watching the movie “Up,” and face painting. Photos by Jean Perry & Felix Perez

Runners of the third annual Frosty Runner Road Race were grateful for the decision last week to postpone the race until February 1 – it was a little too frosty last week for a run, with temperatures just starting to climb up from single digits and a few flakes still falling around the region.

Saturday, however, was the perfect day for a not-so-frosty runner race with the snow melting on the side of the road as runners passed, and the spring-like 40 degree temperature was warm enough to cause a sweat but cool enough to keep runners from overheating.

The flag dropped at 10:00 am sharp, prompting the simultaneous start of two races – the 10-mile run and the 3.1-mile run/walk – that began and ended at Old Colony Regional Vocational Technical High School, but which wove separate paths throughout Rochester during the course of the race.

First to cross the finish line for the 3.1-mile was Nathen Brito of New Bedford, age 21, timed at 17 minutes and 51 seconds.

“I won the race last year, too,” said Brito. “I just started running last year. I love running, I run all the time.”

Meg Hughes, 11, a sixth-grade student at Rochester Memorial School, beat all the women across the finish line with an impressive time of 20 minutes and 53 seconds. She also won the race last year, having run it all three years. She ran with her sister, Kate, 14, a student at Old Rochester Regional Junior High, who was the second female to cross the line. The two girls are part of a multi-sports team called “Spark” based out of Westport, sponsored by Spark Bike Run Sports in Taunton.

Richard Cole, another Spark member running the Frosty Runner, said any funds they raise from group participation in sporting events goes to the organization Homes for our Troops.

“[The Frosty Runner] is one of the earlier races of the season, and it’s a nice race,” said Cole. “We like to keep things going throughout the winter.”

It wasn’t long after all the 3.1-mile runners returned that the 10-milers started winding their way back down the long driveway toward the finish line.

Dan Croteau of Acushnet, 24, beat his time from two years ago when he ran the race and won.

I basically knew I was gonna win from the start,” said Croteau, “So I felt pretty comfortable the whole way.”

First for the women’s 10-mile was Lynn Vasconcelos of Fairhaven.

“There must be something about those teachers when they get into school!” yelled someone from the finish line as Vasconcelos arrived back at Old Colony.

“Yeah! It’s called therapy,” replied Vasconcelos, a first-grade teacher at Wood Elementary School in Fairhaven. “Running is therapy!”

Would-be first place woman runner Tarley Sumner was in the lead as she ran the final stretch of the race, only to take a wrong turn at the last minute and nobody manning the street did anything to stop her.

“I was hoping to beat my time,” said Sumner. “I would have, too. It was the last turn of the race.”

Kevin Mullen of Fairhaven and Jeremy Fuller of New Bedford both ran the race barefoot and, despite the wet, gravelly winter roads scattered with mud puddles of melting ice and snow, Mullen beat his personal barefoot record and finished faster than he expected.

“With practice and persistence,” said Mullen, “it’s the style of running I’ve developed over the years … It strengthens your feet and ankles. All running begins and ends with the foot.”

A trio of Old Colony students donned white hazmat suits for the fun of it, and just in case they encountered some asbestos or radioactive waste along the way, or course. Zack Turbesi, Jacob Sol, and Brian Grant from “Team Tyvek” kept pace with each other and crossed the finish line together, hands clasped and arms high in triumph. Grant, who started out the 3.1-mile race with a black featureless nylon mask, said he made it to about one mile before whipping the thing off for some fresh air.

With 170 runners in all, race coordinator Bethany Botelho said the Frosty Runner Road Race is still up and coming and rather small, but she is hoping that local businesses will soon take notice of the growing interest in the race and will sign on next year as sponsors. Botelho is a teacher and the cross-country varsity coach at Old Colony. Any proceeds from race registration will benefit the athletics department at the school.

By Jean Perry