Yesterday, we announced there will be an opportunity on Saturday to be added to the national bone marrow registry with the hope that one of you is a perfect match for Kaitlyn. And, if not Kaitlyn someone that is fighting the same battle. I asked a friend, who has been through the donor process twice, to write about his experience. I want to emphasize one point Evan makes. You will have the opportunity to give someone a second chance at life that may not have had it any other way. Please take the time to read the following: My name is Evan Hatfield, and I am a bone marrow donor. I have donated Peripheral Blood Stem Cells (PBSC) twice through the C.W. Bill Young DoD Bone Marrow Donor Program. The first time was to a 54 year old male with advanced stage leukemia and the second to a 63 year old female with aplastic anemia. The first died due to complications from my donation, the second died because my donation wasn’t in time. Which, to put very mildly, sucks, but I would give again in a heartbeat. Why, you ask? First, some back story. The first time I donated bone marrow, it was an adventure. Barely twenty, I was flown across the country to a nice hotel, ordered room service, and got to sight see in DC. All I had to do was more or less give blood, something that I was already used to, after receiving injections to increase my white blood cell count. If it hurt I had the option of pain medications which I didn’t use, of course, since at the time I felt invincible. Surprising to me though, shortly after the donation the letters started to come via the program. Some from my recipient’s family, some from my recipient, others from his friends thanking me, ME, for my gift of life. How awesome is that? I wrote back, deployed to the desert, and felt all was right with the world. He was going to make it because of me. After I returned from my deployment, the first call I got off the plane was from the program to notify me that my recipient had died from my donation, and a couple of weeks later someone I loved abruptly lost her own battle with cancer. So you know what? Screw you, cancer. A couple of years later, I got the call again. Even though I was afraid to go through it all over, I said yes. Not only because I’m a glutton for punishment, but I came to realize something. I wanted to a give a chance, however slight, at hope which I didn’t have to others. I wanted to make sure that the family knew that even if things didn’t work out, they wouldn’t have doubts at what could have been. That if my recipient was willing to go through the unimaginable pain and torture of preparing for her last chance at life, I wasn’t going to say no because I was, relative to her, squeamish. Those are my reasons from my experience. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t fast enough. It wasn’t because she didn’t need it or I wasn’t willing to give, but because it took too much time to find me as I wasn’t a perfect match. That is the thing about bone marrow. Given the odds, there’s a decent chance only you can be the one to give someone and their family in need their last chance at hope and a potential future together. Let yourself be it.
Posted on: Tue, 02 Dec 2014 02:32:03 +0000
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