The late journalist and polemicist Christopher Hitchens once used blood donation as an argument for humanity being inherently altruistic.

In a 2010 debate on religion and ethics, he commented: "The British National Health Service is not allowed to pay for blood. You can't buy it or sell it but it never runs out of it. There are always enough people to give."

Whether you share Mr Hitchens' appetite for atheism or are more fond of his Anglican brother Peter, there can be little argument that giving blood is a fantastic public service.

I've been a frequent donor since my university days, and I wasn't going to let the coronavirus pandemic get in the way of me giving up "nearly an armful" for someone who might need it.

It's been nearly a month since I had my first dose of the Oxford AstraZeneca jab, so plenty of time had passed by the time I booked my next donation (the official NHS Blood and Transplant Service guidance says you must wait at least seven days).

In the run-up to donation, I'd received numerous texts from the blood service reminding me to wear my face mask to my appointment and to cancel if I displayed any symptoms – advice which I obeyed to the letter.

While most were urging caution, one text hinted at the supply problems the service is facing: "Demand from hospitals is high so please help by keeping your appointment if you can!"

It's logical to presume that blood stocks have dipped during the pandemic – not only are people reluctant or unable to travel, but the strict social distancing requirements make it hard for the hard-working staff to take as many donations.

Nevertheless, I showed up with my A Clockwork Orange mask and my hair all a mess, had my temperature taken (with what resembled a supermarket scanner) and was seated within a few minutes.

The process of donating blood is very similar to the pre-Covid rigmarole – you report in, you're given the usual booklets to read, get your finger pricked to test your iron levels, and then are leant back in a chair with a needle in the arm of your choice.

But there are subtle changes which have been introduced to keep everyone safe, so if you've not donated for a while things may seem a little unusual.

You still get given a drink when you arrive to prevent you from feeling faint afterwards – but you have to hold onto your cup until you reach the tea and biscuits table after you've donated, which reduces waste and limits contact between individuals.

You're allowed to remove your mask when you're drinking, but you're still expected to keep it on when your iron levels are being checked (with the usual barrage of questions about any medication you've taken) and when you're on the chair actually giving your blood.

The chairs themselves are the same tilting plastic shells, but the exercises you're told to do with your legs and buttocks to keep your remaining blood circulating have also changed slightly since I last donated.

And when it's all over, you still get a drink (in the cup you've kept), but there's no tea or coffee – just water or a choice of squash, with either a chocolate bar or a bag of crisps.

There were three other people donating at the same time as me, with half a dozen donating stations in total, all of being were being cleaned regularly. And despite the ongoing restrictions, there was no grumbling from anyone – we wanted to be there, and we weren't going to let the virus get to us, either medically or emotionally.

Whether you're a regular blood donor or are thinking about giving for the first time, I urge you not to let the pandemic put you off. The staff were wonderful, and it's clear everyone in the NHS is doing everything they can to ensure vital services such as this keep running.

The pandemic has demonstrated what we can achieve when we come together and work for the good of everyone. Giving blood has always been a great example of that – and I intend to keep donating for as long as I can.

For more information, or to find blood donation sessions in the local area, visit www.blood.co.uk.

By Daniel Mumby - Local Democracy Reporter