Bloody Pride

There are many kinds of pride. You can be proud of your country, the things you own, or the things you’ve done, but there’s nothing quite like the pride you feel when your kid does something super awesome.

Since turning sixteen, Mason has been donating blood and platelets at school each time the Oklahoma Blood Institute (OBI) visits. Last week, Mason was contacted by the OBI and informed that his blood was used to save a man’s life during a liver transplant. The man, Ronald Black, was scheduled to speak at OBI over the weekend, and the staff wanted to surprise him by introducing him to Mason on stage.

Mason was the one who got the original text, who passed most of the information on to Susan, who subsequently related a little bit of the story to me. To be honest I was a little skeptical of the entire thing. For starters, I thought blood donations were anonymous, and did not believe a specific donation could be traced back to an individual donor. (I was wrong; it’s more of a “double-blind” system.) I also wasn’t sure why Mason, of all donors, had been selected to be honored. (I’m still not entirely sure about that second part; I think our proximity to OBI had something to do with it.)

Mason, Susan and I, along with several other family members, arrived at the Oklahoma Blood Institute on Saturday. After arriving, we were directed to the waiting room and offered snacks and drinks while we waited. After a short wait we were led from that room into the main conference room. Ronald Black was already up on stage, delivering his testimonial. We did not hear his entire story, but we heard enough of it: “three months to live,” “liver transplant,” “eight units of blood.”

At the end of his speech, one of the people in charge informed him that they had a surprise for him. That was when they brought Mason up on stage and introduced him as one of the donors who had provided the blood that saved Ron’s life. There was not a dry eye in the house, from the two people on stage to all of us in the audience.

Mason said a few words into the microphone and suddenly they were asking his parents (me and Susan) to join them on stage. I have to say that Susan and I had no expectations or intention of going on stage — Mason was the hero, after all — but after a bit of coaxing, we did.

After just a few minutes, we exited the stage and made our way out to the lobby. Both Mason and I noticed a difference in the way people were looking at us when we came in vs. when we had left. I’m sure on the way in, everyone in the room was wondering who these people were who had come in late and were sitting against the wall; when we left, everyone in the room knew exactly who we were, and Mason received many high-fives, handshakes, and pats on the back as we left the room.

The best thing about Ron Black’s story isn’t just that he survived his liver transplant. Ron now works for the Oklahoma Blood Institute, and Yukon High School is part of his area. Ron plans to visit the school this December for the school’s blood drive, where I’m sure he and Mason will meet once again.