'Do I have to stop hating my blood?': Gay man reacts to proposed reduction in donor wait time
'It should be less a matter of orientation and more a matter of facts'
I was 18 the last time I gave blood. I wandered over from my high school to the local donation centre set up in my small town's civic centre. It was after lunch, but my teachers had given us special permission to skip class if we were going to relinquish some red stuff.
My experience was pretty nondescript. I dropped some blood weight and replenished my pint with sugary treats. An altruistic feeling washed over me, along with the to-be-expected wooziness. I felt proud to do something good.
A year later I couldn't donate. It wasn't because I had a risk of malaria or because my hemoglobin was out of wack. It was because I was a young gay man that had transitioned from theoretically gay to a card-carrying, practicing member.
Even though I knew the type of questions the pleasant nurses asked prior to donating, I never put real thought behind the fact that by coming out of the closet, I would be removing myself (at that point - permanently) from giving blood.
I've always found this ban on my gay blood ironic.- Daniel Dalman
Since then there have been many changes to how "less-than" or dangerous my blood has been perceived.
It's all based on how long it's been since I've done the nasty. A lifetime ban was stripped back to an all-clear after ten years of man-on-man abstinence. The time period was then dropped to five years, and then one.
Now, Canadian Blood Services is debating whether to lessen the eligibility window for donating blood to a three-month span since your last physical expression of love with another dude. Given the way my dating life has been playing out lately – this means that if my current dry spell continues I'll be able to donate blood again very shortly.
Do I have to stop hating my blood? Will three months make me not only rusty in the sack, but absolved of my past sins? Will a three-month hiatus from the pleasures of the flesh make my gay blood more easily transfusable?
'I'm particular and fastidious'
I've always found this ban on my gay blood ironic. It was driven into my gay psyche early on that disease was waiting for me around every corner. It has become a very important part of my life to keep tabs of my sexual health.
I have discussions with people about their sexual health before inviting them back to my place. I stock my bathroom with all types of precautionary measures. I've educated myself on facets of gay sexual health that were skipped over in my high-school health class. I regularly sit in the uncomfortable silence of a nurse's office while being tested.
Like a lot of other gay men I know, I'm particular and fastidious. These characteristics inform our sexual health just as much as our perfectly co-ordinated outfits.
This is in direct opposition to my straight compatriots. Those slovenly heterosexuals. On numerous occasions I have mentioned making my appointment to visit a clinic and get tested only to have strange, worried looks pass over the faces of my straight friends.
"Oh," they'll say, "I am so glad I don't have to worry about that."
But they do. These are people just as sexually active as me. In a lot of cases, much to my chagrin, more so.
'Less a matter of orientation and more a matter of facts'
Whereas the implications of heterosexual sex is often unplanned pregnancy, the implications of gay sex are HIV, infection, disease, tragedy, death, stigma.
Even though the straight population can neglect an important aspect of their health, they can regularly wear their "I've donated" sticker with pride.
I do see this proposed three-month window as something positive. It's a subtle crack in the institutionalized homophobia that is prevalent in most, well, institutions.
It's come a long way. But, as a new generation is coming up, and coming out of all sorts of sexual and non-binary closets, I would like to see eligibility of blood donation evolve past the gays versus straights debate.
It should be less a matter of orientation and more a matter of facts — less a blanket statement banning men who have sex with men and more a progressive look at the sexual health of all people donating.
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