As the President and Founder of Desert Pigs, the views and opinions expressed on this blog are solely my own and do not necessarily reflect those of the organization’s board, volunteers, or donors.

In July of 2020, blood banks were really struggling to get donors. The whole world was shutting down and panicking about a new extremely contagious virus, which has since become a household name – the infamous COVID 19.

Since my little trash pickup group called Desert Pigs was pretty popular, and had started branching out into several towns in different Nevada counties, I decided to use our do-good superhero status to collect more blood donors. In fact, my later decision to start a Yerington Chapter of Pigs would be based on the fact a blood drive was needed from there.

Our first blood drive happened in the parking lot of Grocery Outlet in Dayton. Since only one donor could be on the bus at once (COVID rules), Vitalant parked 3 blood buses, taking up the entire front of Grocery Outlet’s parking lot. This was quite the scene to behold in a time that residents were all told to stay home. 28 successful donations happened that day.

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Now it’s just a thing Pigs do

61 blood drives later, we are now at just half a pint shy of 100 GALLONS collected. Having hosted events from Reno to Pahrump, Desert Pigs have saved the lives of potentially over 2,300 people.

Blood donation is the purest form of love – sacrificing a small portion of what keeps you alive to a stranger who will never know your name. No matter what your beliefs, I guarantee this earns you karma points and gold stars in Heaven.

Because of your willingness to get stabbed in the arm:

• A mother can hold her newborn baby after complications in labor.
• Someone will survive the massive blood loss from their car wreck.
• A cancer patient will get red cells replaced after chemo.
• Someone’s grandpa will survive open heart surgery.

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Hitting home for me

When the staff wheeled me into the chilly operating room for a hand-assisted laparoscopic living donor nephrectomy in 2019, I saw blood bags hanging up in there, just in case things went south. It was one of the last things I remember thinking about before they put the mask on my face and told me to count down.

Someone sat in a chair on a blood drive to offer themselves as a lifeline for me. Since I didn’t need it, it went to the person who did. I cannot put into words what that does in my heart and mind. All I know is that I’ve felt obligated ever since, to do whatever I can to help keep the love flowing into those bags.

So… ya’ wanna bleed?