Almost 1 year ago my cell phone rang. I was in my cabin, in Maine, changing into my bathing suit planning to go for a swim when an unfamiliar number showed up on my caller ID. I, of course, answered it because I thought it may be about my dogs, who were at a canine spa.When I answered, and the caller identified herself, it was like a dream; surreal and unreal.
Shocked, I could barely comprehend what the woman on the other end of the phone was saying, "potential match... 20 year-old-female... acute lymphocytic leukemia... bound by no obligation... surgery... testing... as soon as possible... are you willing?"
"Of course, whatever she needs" I said as I popped out of my stream of unconsciousness.
I remember it like it was yesterday; I was playing with the twist-tie from a loaf of wheat bread as she spoke. My heart was racing.
"Of course" I kept repeating over and over and over like they were the only two words in my extensive vocabulary. "Of course."
My donation was, to date, one of the hardest, most emotionally draining, physically challenging, and fulfilling experiences of my life.
A friend emailed me today. We met because she, too, donated bone marrow just weeks after I had my surgery.
Her recipient recently died.
I can not imagine... yet I completely understand.
My friend gave her recipient about 9 more months with her family and friends.
I am profoundly saddened by this. I got the email at work and I closed my door and began to cry. I'm not sure if I cried more for the recipient or my friend.
Once composed, I immediately emailed Dana-Farber for an update on my recipient. How is it possible that I can love someone, so deeply, that I have never even met? I ache to know who she is; how she is.
Please keep my recipient, my friend, and her recipient's family in your thoughts.
