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Thursday, May 25, 2017

Being the Match, Part III

In Part II, I described the testing to determine, and after, I was determined to be a match for a bone marrow patient.

I was finally cleared to donate and received word on Monday, May 1st, 2017.

"It's a go.  You cleared Friday!"

WOO HOO!
I was so excited.
I had only shared my plans with a few close friends - I didn't want to have to explain that I wasn't chosen or, if I had a medical issue - I didn't want to worry others unnecessarily.

I called my parents, and texted a few friends, and I was all smiles all day.
That night was a Relay Meeting Night and in pictures taken that night, I realized I hadn't smiled so well in quite a long time. I was missing joy in my life, and the fact that I was confirmed as a donor, gave me the joy back.

Here is one of the pictures from that night:










And so I began sharing my story - with family and friends alike:
I have some news I am ready to share.

Around 5 years ago, after Dad was diagnosed with Bone Marrow Cancer, I was tested and went on the Bone Marrow Donor Registry.

In March, I received a phone call asking me if I would consider further testing for a cancer patient needing a bone marrow donor, a 61 year old male.

For a little more than the past two months, I've been in the process of getting poked, prodded, and tested as a possible bone marrow donor. I am indeed a match and will be donating bone marrow anonymously (I don't know who he is and he doesn't know who I am) on the Monday after Relay.

If I cannot save my own Dad, then I am extremely honored and happy to have the chance to save someone else's.

With Dad being off Chemo the next few weeks, we will definitely be taking some time to celebrate life and continuing to cherish the little things.


My Dad was so proud, he shared the story in a local Chandler Facebook group, where the post exploded:
My wife and I are so proud of our son Jeffrey Zaben. In the next few weeks he will be donating his bone marrow to save the life of a 61 year old man. Jeff was tested when I was diagnosed with bone marrow cancer more than 5 years ago. He was not a match for me but now he is a match for someone. Saving another person's life is what, in Yiddish, we say is a mitzvah.

100 Comments and 1400 Likes Later, I finally had a chance to process some of the comments that were made:
Hi Everyone, I am the son in question. To say I am overwhelmed and in awe of your comments and expressions of emotion does not even begin to describe what I am feeling. I am so thankful for the enormous support and love you have shown me and my family.

I went on the Bone Marrow Registry in the hopes of saving someone since I cannot (am not a match for) my Dad, and now my dream is on verge of becoming reality.

Thank You again.


I was completely overwhelmed by the outpouring of affection - not only from this post, but from those made by Dad, and my good friend Lynne who posted the following and made me cry:
Dear friend who is a match to donate bone marrow to a stranger. You are my hero today. I love sharing this corner of the world with you! To love is to choose to be inconvenienced. What big love you have.

Some of the comments off the Facebook post that really affected me, so much so, that I typed them out which resulted in a 5 page document. On my days where I am feeling down in the dumps, I know exactly where to look now.
Here are some of the them:

Without my donor I would not be here today.  I hope your post will reach many to become an organ donor.


What a blessing this is…for your son to give,,for this man to receive.<3

Bless your son..:-) for the person he is for giving unselfishly to another and for you, parents, to raising and instilling the principles of life and giving.

It is what we say in every language “amazingly unselfish.”  Your son is someone you, I’m sure, are proud of and someone we all can look up to.  Good stuff, Jeff!!

Wow! I just gain faith in humanity again.  This is a huge mitzvah.  Power to your son!  God bless him!

God Bless your son.  It was a bone marrow donor that saved my mommy’s life.  She was given 2 months to live and the bone marrow saved her life (and mine). God Bless him!

Oh my gosh!  You must be soooo proud.  I am…and I don’t even know him.  You are amazing!

This brought me to tears.  He is a true Mensch!

You are amazing and quite the blessing.  Thank God for your.  Hugs and Luvs!!!

You are an awesome person, Jeffrey.  May G-d Bless you and your recipient, always.

I too am proud of your son, sir though we’ve never met.  You obviously raised a secure, compassionate child who knows the true meaning of life!

Wow, what a great gift and the angels will watch over Jeffrey.  You have truly instilled compassion for others in your son, be proud.

The pain of the surgery will go away, but the reward of saving someone’s life is forever.  Your gift is amazing!

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Being the Match, Part II

In Part I, I described how and why I joined the National Bone Marrow Registry, or Be the Match.
Part I

On March 2, 2017 I received the following email:


Jeffrey,

You’ve been identified as a possible marrow match for a 61-year-old Male in need of a transplant. The patient’s doctor is trying to determine treatment options as quickly as possible.

Please call me immediately  to tell me if you’re willing and able to become a donor.

WHAT?
OH MY GOD!

After discussing with my parents, I called back and agreed to be tested.
What would that entail?

I called back after work on that same day and was questioned for 45 minutes in a very detailed manner on my health, medicines I take, and even my sexual history and where had I traveled to in the past year outside the country. For as sarcastic as I can be, there are times I get quite shy, but surprisingly, this time wasn't one of them. I had nothing to hide, and everything to gain. None of the questions really bothered me.

I guess I passed the first test because I was scheduled for Initial Labwork at Labcorp, to further determine my elgibility as a donor candidate for the patient in question.

I did the initial labwork and then 15 days later, I received the following email:
I’m contacting you from Be the Match. The transplant center confirmed that you and their patient are a match. The patient’s doctors have selected you to be the donor. They are requesting Peripheral Blood Stem Cells. The timeframe they feel would give the transplant the best chance of success is mid-May. Before you could donate, you would have to be physically assessed several weeks before by one of our doctors, to make sure you are healthy enough to undergo the procedure.  I would coordinate the physical exam appointment, and collection. There is one Apheresis Center in AZ; I will check with them first to see if they can accommodate a collection Mid – May.

DOUBLE WOW!

Again, through this process I was questioned (the same questions as the first time) two more times - I guess to confirm my answers!

I went through 2 or 3 more sets of labwork with 12 vials of blood taken each time (Talk about sucking Dracula dry), and I had a physical exam and a tour of the facility where the donation procedure will occur as well. The physical exam was for a doctor associated with Be The Match to clear me and ensure I was healthy enough to donate. It was quite clear they were just as concerned with the donor as well as the recipient.

This is really the only part I was nervous about. Throughout the calls and emails, I had expressed my only concern; that my Dad's Health or Chemo schedule might interfere with my donation. They were extremely accommodating and said I just needed to let them know ahead of time,and if my circumstances changed, I was free to remove myself as a donor at any time. 

By the time of my physical exam, I had already made the decision and had started making healthier food choice decisions and walking more, although I hadn't returned to the gym yet at this time. Upon my arrival, they took more labwork, weighed me, and took my blood pressure. I was a little worked up because I thought for sure my weight would disqualify me, but no one really mentioned my weight as a factor, much to my surprise. I didn't like the number on the scale, either! But, I figured, at least I was already working towards making that better. My Blood Pressure was high, and it was checked two different times that day, both registering around 140/90. For the most part, as stressed as I can get, my blood pressure generally stays in the "normal" range but, Dad had fallen just a few weeks earlier and was still recovering, and I also attributed this to being in a hospital which is nerve wracking (for me) it itself. Again, to my surprise, no one mentioned the High BP. Of course, seeing a high BP made me even more nervous so i immediately how to lower blood pressure.

I almost had to laugh because it said:
1..spend time in the sun (Vitamin D)
2..exercise
3..watch your diet
All of which I was already doing! Oy Vey!
I did decide that 3 cups of coffee was too much, and cutting coffee out entirely was not an option. So, I decided the cup of coffee I enjoyed the most was the one on the way to work and so that's the one I kept, and after I would switch to water to try and lower the Blood Pressure.

The Doctor came in for a consultation, and we talked for quite a bit about my history and my Father's history with cancer. He was especially concerned with the MDS and the fact I had stated Dad has historic low platelets; He said that was a risk factor for me, because my labwork showed my hemoglobin was slightly low and at this point he could not clear me for the procedure based on that. Of course, that made me even more anxious so again I googled how to increase hemoglobin - Eat bananas and leafy green vegetables like broccoli, it said. 

So before, the next 2 sets of bloodwork, in an attempt to increase my hemoglobin numbers, before the labwork, I would eat 2 bananas and one time I even ate a bag of frozen (heated up) broccoli for lunch. Hey, whatever works, right!

I was scheduled for another set of labwork to determine if the low hemoglobin was a fluke or an issue that needed to be investigated further.

Thankfully, two sets of labs later, (I had the last ones done on April 24)..My curiosity was killing me. I was finally cleared to donate and received word on Monday, May 1st, 2017.
"It's a GO.  You cleared Friday!"

To be continued in Part III...

Saturday, May 6, 2017

Being the Match, Part I

Approximately 285 Chemo Treatments ago, or 5 years ago,  my Dad was diagnosed with Myelodysplastic Syndrome, or MDS, a precursor to leukemia. At some point after his treatment started, we decided to obtain a second opinion so off we went to the Mayo Clinic for the day, where they ran a bunch of tests and then chatted with us.

It was as a result of this appointment at Mayo, that I signed up with BeTheMatch to determine if I was a possible match or donor for my Father. I figured, why shouldn't I be? I'm his son!  

On February 20th 2013, the day of the Mayo Appointment, and after we returned home..I went on the computer and officially joined the National Bone Marrow Registry, or BeTheMatch. Within a few days or weeks, I was mailed a kit with basically a long QTip and a secure envelope with the instructions to swab my cheek, seal the envelope and mail it back. So i swabbed, thinking the whole time, I'm probably not doing this right and screwing it up. Who knew!

On May 12, 2013, almost 4 years to the day of what would later become my planned donation date, I received an email from Be The Match advising that they had received my results and I was officially on the registry and could expect a call if I was determined to be a match. (I am a saver and I kept the emails)

We found out from Mayo that that neither I, nor my father's closest blood relatives - both of who were tested in a similar manner - were matches for my Dad. Although through the Bone Marrow Registry, they did locate a 100% match for him. Unfortunately, a bone marrow transplant and the risks therein, deemed him not a good choice for a transplant.

So, then I decided I would stay on the registry, and I really hoped I would someday be called. Throughout the next 5 years, I would constantly think "If I can't save my own Dad, then I want to save someone else."  And I meant it. 

I really didn't have any idea what donating bone marrow meant, other than, helping to save someone's life. That's all that really mattered to me.

On March 2, 2017 I received the following email:


Jeffrey,

You’ve been identified as a possible marrow match for someone in need of a transplant. The patient’s doctor is trying to determine treatment options as quickly as possible.

Please call me immediately  to tell me if you’re willing and able to become a donor.

WHAT?
OH MY GOD!

After discussing with my parents, I called back and agreed to be tested.
What would that entail?

To be continued...



Tuesday, April 25, 2017

One Fine Day

"Never regret a day in your life. Good days give happiness, Bad days give experience,
Worst days give lessons, and Best days give memories" wrote a friend a few days ago.

I really couldn't agree more.

Dr. Seuss once said, "Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory."

Likewise, I have come to realize over the past few years, that I need to appreciate what I have while I have it. I thought I was doing a pretty good job at this, but leave it to the Universe to refresh your memory and make you realize you're not really as in control and "ok" with things as much as you like to think they are.

The past month or so, has been ripe with medical issues, changed and disrupted plans, constant worrying, and juggling of schedules. I'm sure it was at least part of the reason why my blood pressure registered high for one of the first times I ever remember.

Dad stayed in bed most of the time and Mom and I really did not go out much. I did any shopping or errands on their behalf, and proceeded to burn myself out. Although Mom and I ate dinner together regularly, the 3 of us as a whole, stopped going out to dinner because Dad was way too wiped out. 

We saw the doctor last week and the plan if things didn't improve was to admit Dad to the hospital this week to figure out what was causing his problems. 

Being the consummate planner, and knowing that I can deal with almost anything knowing that's in the future so I can PLAN for it, I was ok with this, but on the way home from the Doctor, I expressed the following which ended up becoming a Facebook post a few days later:

A few days ago, I expressed a desire to go out when Alan felt up to it, to go out to dinner at a restaurant as a family, at Texas Roadhouse. I always thought going out to dinner was a little thing, but the past month has made realize it's really a big thing. Tonight was the first time we've gone out to dinner together in the past month. The manager saw Dad's shirt identifying himself as a Cancer Survivor, told us his own history with cancer, and then comped two of the meals, for my parents. We will never know what tomorrow may bring, but we can most definitely celebrate the successes of today. Take the small victories, and cherish what you've got. 🙏😇💜

The dinners out as a family, the Costco and Sam's runs (We like to walk around the store on weekends and nosh and shop)..I really found I missed. More than I really thought. When Dad agreed and felt better enough for us to go out to dinner to Texas Roadhouse last Thursday, I was ecstatic. Let's go while we have the chance.

I made sure to just soak in the moment and cherish every little thing - the biscuits and cinnamon butter, the time we spent together just enjoying each other's company. In a way, I was attempting to make a permanent memory within my brain, even though we had gone out to Texas Roadhouse plenty of times before and ordered the exact same meals.  We've collectively been through so much in the past month, I just wanted "one more dinner" to appease myself, and my feelings. If nothing else, I would have a Texas Roadhouse dinner to cherish and hold even closer to my heart.

On Saturday, Dad said he wanted to run errands with me - Sam's, Costco, Fry's, etc.
It took him a few tries, but we went out and had a lovely Dad and Son Day.
Another one that we have done many times before, but one more to cherish!

On Sunday, we went out for dinner again. Why Not? Let's enjoy while we can.

What I learned and came to appreciate, was that the little things really are big things.

Sunday Night, I helped my parents with some items around their apartment and decided to play some music on Youtube while I tackled the "Honey Do" List. 

The song I chose to listen to, perhaps subconsciously:
One Fine Day, by the Chiffons.

One Fine Day, indeed.

Monday, April 10, 2017

When the Student is Ready, The Teacher Appears, Part 2

It was somewhat of a challenging day, emotionally.

As I wrote about online a few days ago: 
Night is when I'm alone, when I either have a chance to relax and reflect on my day...worry about the things I can't control and try to shut my brain off to relax. It's when I unwind by watching a tv show, or starting my laundry (which usually gets left in the washer until the following morning). 

It's when after a rough day, I cherish my ME time, even though I love my parents and being here as a caregiver for them just as much.

Finally, its the time when after stifling my emotions all day, I tell myself all day "just wait until you are alone" or "don't cry in front of them" but by the time that happens, I have moved past it, even temporarily, and no tears come out. (Most of the time)


On the way home from dinner with my parents, I began to feel sorry for myself and for the others in my life struggling with various issues. 

Even though I am in midst of getting healthy again, making better food choices and working out, my old frenemy and faithful crutch came to the forefront.

For a few seconds, I thought, "Man, those chewy cookies at Fry's would taste so good right now."  Instant gratification and an instant setback to the hard work and dedication I've put in over the past two weeks.

I felt guilty before I even put a chocolate chip in my mouth. 

Last night, I posted this meme, because I felt it describes my situation accurately. 

and then commented:
Or like me, they eat their feelings and emotions for years to deal with stress as an avoidance technique. For a while I traded the gym for emotional eating, but breaking old habits is hard. #workingonmeforme

How could I now go after the sweets after I said last night that's what I was working so hard not to repeat again?

I decided I wasn't going to give in, and I was going to have to find a way to work past the craving.  At that very moment, I drove by a church with this sign on the outside: 
"When things go bad, don't go with them"

Hmmmm....A Sign?

Clearly, it was something I needed to see.

For whatever reason, I decided to change the song on the radio down one station to the 1970s tunes.  
The song playing:
"No Sugar Tonight" by the Guess Who.

I laughed. 
Thanks, Universe, I get it.

Monday, April 3, 2017

Be Careful What You Watch on TV

I shouldn't have watched Grey's Anatomy this week.

I'm watching tv, crying alongside a character on a show who's own struggles closely mirror my own, and hit way too close to home.

From TV Guide:
"After learning the truth about her mother's inflammatory breast cancer in last week's episode, Maggie goes into attack mode, devouring all kinds of research about the disease and its various treatments. Against pretty much all of her colleagues' advice, Maggie puts her mother on an aggressive regimen, eventually securing her a place in a clinical trial for an experimental treatment -- and firing Meredith (Pompeo) as her mother's surgeon in the process."

This is my life.

I would do everything possible, whatever I can get my hands on if it would cure my Dad and make my Mom feel better.

The above statement about "attack mode" is dead on.

When my Dad was diagnosed with the MDS:
I researched herbal supplements to increase his platelet count, because I was convinced he was suffering from a deficiency, and not cancer.

When I couldn't make him better last week, when I was unable to  fix his pain last week after he fell,
In hysterics, I sobbed that I couldn't keep on seeing him this way and the only way I knew how to fix him was to bring him to a doctor, because this wasn't fair to him.

When his BP was low, I googled and confirmed that drinking more water, exercising, and eating something salty all increase a low blood pressure. All of which were confirmed when we saw the Cardiologist. (I thought was pretty good on my part and we could have saved a copay lol)

When it comes to either of my parents and a medical issue, I feel like I take control and attempt to help (and find a way to fix them) any way I can.

Attack Mode, indeed.

A friend's father passed away last week, after his own battle with cancer, and related ailments. Both of us have Superman incarnated as Fathers.

Even though the ER was never involved, since the events of the last week, every time an ambulance passes by, or I hear the sirens of a nearby emergency, I shudder, and feel the wave of nausea pass through. 

Some little things really affect you. I think "Someone's family member is in danger. Someone needs to hear, and someone needs to be told "I love you, and it's going to be OK"

But then, I saw the most amazing movie: "The Shack"
I felt drawn to see it, and I felt strongly that seeing it would somehow help me.

I was right.
It changed my perspective.

Seeing in the movie what I struggle with on a daily/weekly/monthly basis, somehow made it OK.

Of course, things are also a bit calmer for me at the moment too, which is also helpful.

This was a continuation in a string of movies I have seen over the past few months, which have truly helped me deal, because of the themes they represent and how I can relate them to events or feelings in my own life:

Collateral Beauty
Arrival
The Space Between Us
Passengers
and now,
The Shack

Monday, March 27, 2017

What Can We Do?

"Life is about people. At the end of the day, we're here to connect love, time, death. Now these three things connect every single human being on earth. We long for love. We wish we had more time. And we fear death."
--Howard Inlet, "Collateral Beauty"

I have been through my share of challenges and struggles, but it seems the hardest of those to get through, live through, and learn to overcome, is when a loved one is challenged medically.

I have long been a "fixer".
My eternal goal is to "fix the problem" and help someone else out, make their life easier so we can go back to normal, regular, non-issue life.

I am a fixer at work; it's my job, and where my strengths lie. If there is a workaround to be published, I can find it, as one solution to a problem.

At home, when it comes to raising my two parental "kids" I feel like I'm at a huge disadvantage.

During a recent outburst, I exclaimed "I can't fix you. The only way I know how to fix you is to bring you to a doctor. 


Even if it's only temporary, at least it will provide some comfort because constant discomfort is not fair to you."

All I want to do is fix, fix, fix.


But I can't fix anymore than I can tell you why we're on the path we're on.

But what I can do is LOVE.


What I can do is show my love to those around me, 

and tell them how I feel while I still have that precious opportunity.

What I can do is cherish the time we get to spend together, 

because nothing lasts forever, 
and nearly everything is temporary.

Truly, it is what is.
We can't change it,
We can't fix it,
We can't undo it.

What we can do is make the most of time each of us have, each and every day.

That is what we can all do.