Orientation & Physical Assessment

A couple weeks later I met Arlene back at the clinic where I had an orientation with a Physician's Assistant. The procedure was described in detail and I was told what I could expect. I also learned that the man who was to receive my cells was in the Netherlands. Usually they don't share the patient's location, but every country has different policies on patient privacy and in the Netherlands sharing location is acceptable. It's kind of awe inspiring to think that in an international registry of 9 million people the closest match for a Dutch patient would be a random girl in Oklahoma. There was more paperwork to sign and more blood to give. I'm telling you, once you hook up with these blood clinic people they do enjoy taking blood.

After my session at the clinic Arlene took me across the street to the cancer center where I would complete my physical. It felt a little odd having Arlene babysit me all afternoon, but my physical included 4 different offices in different parts of the center so I was pretty thankful to have a guide who knew the way around. Also, they gave me a special note from the Marrow Registry that said I shouldn't pay for anything. My first stop was a pulmonary specialist's office where I had a chest x-ray. Next was a cardiovascular practice where I had an EKG. My third stop was a lab where I gave urine and of course more blood. Lastly, I met with an oncologist who I liked very much and only partly because he looked a little bit like Dumbledore. He even had the Harry Potter series in his waiting room so he must be an alright guy.

All in all the battery of testing was pretty humbling. Every waiting room was full of sick people. I was in a cancer center after all. I saw people with no hair, people carting oxygen tanks, and people too weak to even walk. Every nurse and technician I came in contact with remarked on how good my blood pressure was or how great my lungs looked on the x-ray or how ideal my EKG results were. The oncologist asked me some questions and then felt around on my neck and stomach before asking his nurse, "what else am I supposed to do" while explaining to me that "I don't normally see healthy people."

That day helped me see the enormity of the whole thing. For me it's not a big deal, but for someone else it is. My orientation even covered warnings against any type of dangerous activity like sky diving because if I put myself in a life threatening situation I am also risking the life of the patient who needs my donation. They talked about the point of no return where they would start prepping the patient for donation with high doses of chemo at which point a donation would be required for survival. They talked about sharing information with the patient and leaving the door open for future contact with this person. I can request an update on the patient and I'm not sure how I feel about that. I can't even imagine what this must be like from the patient's perspective so I think any communication needs to be up to him and on his terms. Sure, I'll be curious, but I think I would rather leave my info with the registry and let him make the first move if he chooses. I know there is also the possibility that he won't make it. There are no guarantees with cancer. It's weird, but I can honestly say that I care about this guy even though we've never met and I'd almost rather let myself assume that he's doing well.

So far I haven't told many people about my upcoming donation and I'm conflicted about that. On the one hand, I know there needs to be more awareness. Two years ago I didn't know what this was and now I am the one person on the registry picked to donate for this patient. How many willing people like me are out there who just don't know? I also know there is a lot of misinformation. Most people seem to only be familiar with the surgical donation process and have the impression that it comes with horrific pain which by the way isn't true. However, I am uncomfortable with the amount of credit the people I have told want to give me. Words like selfless, hero, life saver, etc. make me cringe. I know it's all well intentioned, but honestly the important message in my mind is how easy this was for me as a donor. Anyone could do this. I don't deserve any kind of accolade for having the right DNA markers. It was luck. When I consider what the patient must have experienced in his battle thus far and when I think about what lies ahead for him how can I not give up a few hours of my time to sit in a cushy chair and be hooked up to an IV?