Rolling up my sleeve, I stuck out my arm.
‘Nice to see you again, Sarah,’ smiled the nurse, preparing the syringe.
At 16, I’d just started giving blood. My dad, Andrew, a regular donor, took me for my first donation. After that I began going regularly too.
I felt if you were lucky enough to be healthy, it was the least you could do.
Besides, you always got a yummy milkshake!
Someone else who gave blood regularly was Heath, who was in the year above me. We often
