Last November 16th, I donated hematopoetic stem cells (the stem cells that form bone marrow–adult stem cells) to a man with MDS whose best chance of surviving was a stem cell transplant. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year now. Last I heard from the program, he was still alive. Now that it’s been a year, I have a chance of learning his name, maybe even meeting him!
Back in college, the National Marrow Donor Program did a drive on campus. I have to admit, I was not in a healthy frame of mind when I signed up. I’d found out that my mother was going to die. I was depressed. I wasn’t still suicidal at that point, but I was extremely sad. Bone marrow transplants weren’t what could save her, but I signed up thinking that death was so horrible and maybe I could save someone. It’s actually not a bad way of looking at it—we can’t always save the ones we love, but sometimes we can help other people. (It’s even easier to sign up now…they just need a cheek swab and can even send you a kit in the mail.)
On Sunday afternoon, I got out of the shower to find Micah waiting for me. “Your dad called,” he said, “It sounds important. Call him back.” When I called my dad, he told me that the nurses said I should come home. They thought Mom had days, it was possible she had a week or two, but I should probably come home now.
Fortunately, I’d saved up leave time and I’d talked to my bosses about the possibility that I might be called away suddenly. So heading up on Sunday night wasn’t a problem, I just called one to let her know and sent a more detailed e-mail later on to get things worked out.