For some reason I like to think about heavy, important things as I'm laying in bed trying to go to sleep. This has resulted in my not hitting the REM cycle before 1 am for the last three nights. I'm a girl who likes her sleep. I'm sure you can imagine the reprocussions. Hint: they involve me practically sprinting down the street in Midtown trying to make it to work ontime. But I digress...
Last night I decided to think about my potential bone marrow donation. Let's rewind a bit. When I got back from California, waiting for me in my stack of mail - amongst the credit card applications and political flyers from various local candidates - was a holiday card from DKMS. Folded inside was a piece of paper that said something along the lines of "Please continue to be on board with this decision. We are still waiting to hear from the patient's doctor. In the meantime here is the information on what is required of you - again." Brownie points to them for being thorough. I had been waiting to hear about the results of my blood test (for typing match) and though I was told it could take up to a few months before I'd know if I'd actually be donating, I was a bit confused by their letter. I wasn't sure if they were saying that yes, I am a good match and we are just waiting to see if the patient is healthy enough to receive the donation or hang tight, we still don't know if the doc thinks my cells are a fit.
Regardless, last night it occurred to me that it has been over a month since I received the "YOU'RE A MATCH!" e-mail and the worrywort in me took over. I guess I just assumed that this process would be taking place very quickly as we all know that potentially saving someone's life is something you don't put off. But I do understand that procedures need to be done, they need to make sure I'm good for this person and that this person is well enough to benefit from my donation. Which leads me to the worrywort part - I hope he or she is OK. I can't imagine going through something like leukemia or having a loved one who has the illness. I picture my match in many different ways, very frequently, and hope that he or she is on the healthier side of the spectrum.
A few weeks ago my new roommate told me about when she had her bone marrow drawn for testing and said these exact works: "I felt like my bones were on fire." Now, I'll be honest - that freaked me out a bit. Still the desire to know that this stranger is now doing well ranks higher on my list. I am committed as ever to helping. I just hope I get to do so soon.
Read the entire perfect match series.
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