My 25th Blood Donation — The Quiet Joy of Giving

“If you’re lucky enough to live the rest of your life, make it meaningful.”

🩸 A Milestone from the Heart

There are so many moments in life that make me smile — moments that remind me that I’m proud to be who I am, to be alive, and to have lived this far.
If the average lifespan is between 70 and 90 years, I’ve probably walked through a third of my journey already. That realization doesn’t scare me. It centers me. It whispers:

“Do something that matters.”

Figure 1: On the donation chair — familiar faces, familiar kindness. The nurse smiles and says, “Your blood looks strong today.”

For me, meaning often comes through giving — especially in small, quiet ways that ripple far beyond what we see.
And one of those ways has been blood donation.

🌿 Where It All Began

If I trace back where this habit began, it leads straight to my mother.
When I was a child, she took me along to the Thai Red Cross Center in Ratchaburi, beside the calm Mae Klong River. I remember the soft hum of ceiling fans, the cool tiles under my shoes, and the quiet pride on her face.

She never lectured about kindness. She simply lived it.
Giving blood wasn’t something she bragged about — it was something she did because she could.

Figure 2: A distant memory — the Ratchaburi donation room where my mother first taught me that kindness could be routine.

Back then, I didn’t understand.
But now, every time I roll up my sleeve, I hear her voice again:

“Be kind. Give when you can.”

🏙️ From Ratchaburi to Bangkok

Years later, my life moved to Bangkok. The donation center changed, but the ritual stayed.
The staff at the Thai Red Cross Society now recognize me. We share jokes before each session — the kind of light humor that makes courage easy.

Each donation follows a rhythm: health check, warm greeting, the quick sting of the needle, and then the slow, reassuring flow of life leaving one body to help another.

Figure 3: Watching the crimson line form — a quiet connection between two lives who may never meet.

This time was special.
Because this was my 25th blood donation.

The nurse handed me a certificate and a small commemorative pin.
For a moment, I felt both humbled and proud — of the discipline it took, of the years that passed, and of the promise that began decades ago beside that river.

💯 The Goal: 100 Donations

My personal goal is to reach 100 blood donations in my lifetime.
It’s not just a number — it’s a symbol of continuity, of living healthily, and of refusing to forget what empathy means.

Figure 4: My collection of pins — small symbols of consistency, reminders that kindness is cumulative.

Each bag donated equals a chance for another heart to keep beating.
Twenty-five down. Seventy-five to go.

The nurse laughed as she said, “Your blood is strong today — no iron pills needed!”
And I smiled, quietly grateful that I could still give.

👑 In Memory of His Majesty King Bhumibol Adulyadej

October 13 is a day of remembrance in Thailand — a day to honor His Majesty King Bhumibol Adulyadej (Rama IX).

He remains one of my greatest inspirations: a monarch of intellect, humility, and compassion.
He devoted his life to helping others — with sincerity, with science, with heart.

So today, I dedicated my 25th donation to him.
May this merit reach him in heaven.
May his light continue to inspire us to serve with kindness and purpose.

Figure 5: The 25th-donation certificate placed beside the portrait of His Majesty King Bhumibol Adulyadej — my quiet dedication to the King who taught Thailand the meaning of compassion.

📸 Scenes from the Day

Figure 6: “You again!” the nurse joked. I laughed. Some routines become friendships.

Figure 7: After every donation, a snack and a small thank-you bag. On the back it read: “Thank you, hero.” I smiled — not because I felt like one, but because so many unseen heroes pass through this place daily.

Figure 8: The quiet interior of the Thai Red Cross hall — white walls, gentle light, and rows of small acts of courage.

🌈 Reflections on Giving

Some people ask, “Why do you keep doing it?”
The truth is simple — because I can.

There are many who wish to donate but can’t.
So as long as I’m healthy, I’ll keep showing up.

Blood donation isn’t just a medical act.
It’s an act of empathy — of human connection.
It reminds me that no matter how modern our world becomes, the purest form of kindness still comes from the oldest instinct of all — to share life.

“You can’t give life to everyone, but you can give a part of yours to someone who needs it most.”

🩸 A Drop That Shapes Tomorrow

Every donation begins the same way — a quiet morning, a waiting chair, a gentle prick on the arm. But behind that simplicity lies something far greater: a human connection written in red. As I watched the crimson thread flow through the clear tube, I realized how small acts often carry the deepest meaning. That single moment — fleeting, almost invisible — might one day be the difference between despair and another chance at life for someone I’ll never meet.

Each time I donate, I’m reminded that science and compassion are not opposites; they are partners. The same precision that defines my work in AI and research also lives in this act of giving — a balance of knowledge and empathy, of the measurable and the immeasurable. We measure oxygen levels, iron counts, and hemoglobin rates, but not the hope that flows quietly from donor to recipient. And yet, that unseen data — the humanity between numbers — is what keeps our world alive.

In that room, surrounded by nurses, patients, and volunteers, I saw no difference in background, belief, or language. There was only one truth that united us all: we share the same blood, the same fragile yet resilient essence that binds every life on this planet. To give blood is to acknowledge that we are all connected by something deeper than science — by empathy, courage, and the quiet wish to make tomorrow a little brighter for someone else.

I often think about where my donation goes — perhaps to a child fighting illness, a mother in surgery, or a stranger recovering from an accident. I’ll never know their names, but I carry their stories with me. Because every time I give, I don’t just donate blood; I donate possibility, a continuation of life’s narrative.

So here’s to every heartbeat that continues because of another’s kindness, to every life that goes on because someone chose to care. The world doesn’t need heroes in capes — it needs humans with open hearts and rolled-up sleeves. And if one drop of blood can ripple outward to save a life, then maybe, just maybe, that’s how we heal this world — one act of quiet generosity at a time. 🌍❤️

❤️ Grateful, Always

I’m grateful — for my health, for my body that allows me to help, for my mother’s lessons, and for the chance to live a life that still has room for giving.

Here’s to the next 75 donations, to every person I may unknowingly help, and to a lifetime of quiet, meaningful kindness.

— Teerapong Panboonyuen (Kao)
October 2025, Thai Red Cross Society, Bangkok

Citation

Panboonyuen, Teerapong. (October 2025). My 25th Blood Donation: A Journey of Kindness, Gratitude, and Life. Blog post on Kao Panboonyuen. https://kaopanboonyuen.github.io/blog/2025-10-13-my25th-blood-donation/

For a BibTeX citation:

@article{panboonyuen2025blood25,
  title   = "My 25th Blood Donation: A Journey of Kindness, Gratitude, and Life",
  author  = "Panboonyuen, Teerapong",
  journal = "kaopanboonyuen.github.io/",
  year    = "2025",
  month   = "Oct",
  url     = "https://kaopanboonyuen.github.io/blog/2025-10-13-my25th-blood-donation/"
}