The Price of Altruism

I'm selling my body.

Well, not really.

Just part of it.

I've recently moved, and until I get my finances solid, I've been selling my plasma to a pharmaceutical company. I didn't even know you could still do that; it seems the only time it comes up is when somebody is telling an inspirational story, and they tell about when they were so down they had to sell their blood. But those were in the past; surely in the time of bar codes, AIDS, and genetic engineering that wasn't necessary any more!

Apparently it is still necessary and popular. The money is decent enough, considering that all you really have to do is sit there.

But still, I feel a little creepy. Money isn't why I want to do it. I came from a place where it was strictly voluntary; the female phlebotomists were uniformly nice, since they knew you didn't have to be there. I got to feel good about helping strangers. When people questioned why I went so often (I gave 30 gallons before moving out of the area) I would say that I gave when I could so that when I needed it somebody else would give.

There is a difference; I donated platelets, and I'm selling plasma.

But still.

I lived across from an elder gentleman and when it snowed I would make sure to get out there early and shovel his driveway for him. I didn't want him getting hurt doing it, and I appreciated the exercise. It seemed like a great combination.

Until he started feeling guilty, and started running out to shove money in my hand. I tried to dissuade him, and suggested that a bottle of wine at the solstice was enough payment for the season. It didn't take; he continued with the money.

And as he did, I enjoyed the snow shoveling less and less.

When it was free, it was a good deed; when I got paid, it was a chore.

I hope that I can my finances strong enough that I can stop selling my blood, and find a place where I can give it away. Because as the slogan says, giving the gift of life is unbeatable.