My Bone Marrow Donationversary is May 15th.
On May 8th, I received a call from Be the Match advising that the person I donated to last year was at risk and needed a boost - of white cells, as was explained to me. It was never a question - I immediately agreed and started the entire process as I did last year - Full Health History Questionnaire (45 minutes on the phone), Physical Exam, Two sets of Labwork and exactly two weeks later to the date of the May 8th Phone call, I was in the hospital for the day to donate.
The process leading up to the donation, and even the donation itself was quite similar. Get to the hospital, take bloodwork to make sure everything is good one final time. Then I had about 45 minutes to have breakfast while they waited for my numbers to return. At which point, I was hooked up again with both arms immobilized; one arm to extract the stem cells from my body and into the apheresis machine, and the other line (and arm) to return it back to my arm. Like last year, they kept what they wanted and returned what they didn't want.
What was different this year was, I lost use of both arms for the approximately 4-6 hours while I was laid up in bed. I had no problem doing what I did, and even still, I would do it again if the opportunity presented itself, but I think it was a matter of how the two hospitals operated differently. The hospital last year left me one arm to negotiate with, while this year it appeared they went by the book. I had brought a couple of snacks back from the cafeteria with me, only to receive a warning that I wasn't going to be able to eat during the procedure, or use the restroom. They were pretty strict (and by the book). I accepted the no eating, but I told them I needed to use the bathroom even if it was a urinal and so they acquiesed and agreed - I was able to use a urinal, but they would not let me get out of bed to use it, which proved to be interesting.
At any rate, I was hooked up and it was also very similar to the platelet donations I do once a month. Unfortunately, a vein my left arm collapsed so they had to manipulate the line midway through and as a result I received (after a couple of days) the mother of all bruises - probably the biggest black, blue, and purple mark I have ever received in my life. Although I wear it as a badge of honor, and it does not hurt....I would have hoped it would have been a smaller bruise like last year, when I ended up with a heart shaped bruise of my left forearm.
With all that time on the bed without my Ipad, without my phone (talk about being cutoff), I had plenty of time to think, but surprisingly, I didn't use the time to process what I was going through. Not really sure why, perhaps it was a measure of self protection.
The days leading up to the donation, I was no less inclined to go through, but I began to get more emotional. There was no question, EVER, that I would go through with it, because I was helping to give someone life, but without my Dad here, it was really a completely different experience for me. It made me face the fact that although I had always dreamed of somehow saving him, this was forcing me to acknowledge, that the possibility of that was just gone, and so that preyed on my emotions, in combination with the fact that this donation was described to me as an "imminency" donation, meaning it is a last ditch effort.
A friend stated to me that what I did was "powerful and humbling all the same"
I think that is a perfect summation of the experience.
It's almost a week from my 2nd donation date and I still don't feel like I have completely processed all the feelings and dealt with my emotions relating to the experience. Processing that I am possibly this gentleman's last hope. Processing that I hope at minimum, I can give him and his family some extra time together to hug and kiss, and say what they need to, if they need to...Something we all did on a daily basis when it came to my Dad, but we did not have the extra time we all wanted. But, no one really does. Knowing what the future held would have not changed anything except made me stress and cry more. But, I hope for much more. I hope this man receives the cure he needs. I hope he lives and gets to enjoy many more years with his loved ones. All I wanted to do was take away my Father's pain and misery...fix him. That's all I want to do for my donation recipient. I want to make him better. The struggles of being a "fixer." Perhaps I have avoided the feelings until now because deep down I knew it would reactivate what I feel for and about my Dad.
As I wrote on the day of the donation:
"Here we went again - I donated stem cells again today. I hope this works for him. Whereas last time I felt for most part, great honor - which I still do. I’ve been chosen twice!! This time, my feelings are more mixed. I always said I wanted to help someone else’s Dad since I couldn’t help (I was not a match for him) my own. Now, the possibility of helping my Dad is no longer a possibility. The process this time makes me face that reality. When your parent is aging or suffering, all you want to do is make the hurt and pain go away. Similar to how a parent feels about their child. I hope I am at minimum, giving another family some more cherished time together. I am sure my Dad is smiling that I have this wonderful opportunity again"
Below is what I originally planned to post on this blog with a few changes based on what I now know:
Dear Bone Marrow Donor Recipient,
When I joined Be The Match, the Bone Marrow Donor Registry that matches donors with recipients, my goal was to help someone, anyone. I was not a match for my Dad, and from the minute I joined the registry, I had said to anyone that would listen "If I can't save my Dad, then I want to save someone else's Dad."
Through a few months of blood tests and physical exams, One year ago today, on Monday, May 15, 2017 - My dream came true. The entire journey, but most especially the donation day, holds a very special place in my heart, and it was my honor to donate anonymously to you. My donation procedure was called PBSC - Peripheral Blood Stem Cell Donation.
I hope you are doing well and that you and your family get to enjoy your company and share your love for many, many more years. I know you are from Europe and were just a few years younger than my Dad's age. Do you have kids and grandkids?
I think about you and wonder, besides the obvious, how did this affect your life?
Did you take on my blood type as a result of the donation?
How long did the procedure take and how long until you got to go home?
I may never get the answers to these questions, but I like to think that I was as close to a perfect match as you could get (Be The Match told me I had to be a very high percentage of a match to even be considered as an anonymous donor).
The fact I was called twice to donate to you makes me think I am a really close match to you, and even perhaps, that we share some common heritage or possibly the same religion.
(I joked that after I finished donating, I was going to patrol the halls of the hospital looking for my blood cells. I felt that I would recognize my own cells immediately, and they would make themselves known to me because I would see little blue Stars of David floating around somewhere)
I hope you are enjoying life, and that your form of cancer has been cured and that you are in remission.I pray that it has.
If your situation is as dire as I am led to think, I hope you take every single minute to hug and kiss and spend time with your loved ones, and I hope they do the same with you. Take pictures, Talk, Hold each other. Hugs. Anything, as long as you spend time together, will be worth it.
The process, in part, inspired me to continue helping those in need, especially after my Dad died by donating platelets, about once a month. The process is quite similar - Dracula sucks the blood out, they keep the platelets, and then they return the rest of the blood components back into my arm. The entire process takes about 2 hours or so. Two hours, that I can give up to give someone else what they need.
Because my Dad was historically low in platelets - that's what I chose to donate, Even before I found out that my Blood Type is a Universal Donor Type for Platelets, so any other blood type can use my platelets. That made me even more happy. My Dad would have called me a Platelet Whore (He called himself the Chemo Whore).
The text messages I get telling me that my blood is on its way to a hospital to help someone in need warm my heart. The same way my bone marrow did when it was on its way to you.
I wish you and your family all the best, and a great big high five and hug from your friend in America.
Love,
Jeff
