Post number one.

Live from the 10th floor of the Helmsley Medical Tower on the upper east side of Manhattan.  These are my accommodations as set up by the Gift of Life Bone Marrow Foundation.

Tomorrow at 2 pm I am scheduled to participate in a 3 hour medical exam at Cornell.  This is the final precursor to ensure we can proceed to the next level of the peripheral blood stem cell donation scheduled for May 9, 2011.  Tomorrow’s exam will include a chest x-ray, electrocardiogram, pregnancy test, full blood panel, and (oh joy) a vein assessment.  I am drinking water as if I have been in the hot sun for days so that my veins pop out like I am some sort of super hero.  When logistics were finalized the other day, my work-up coordinator advised me to abstain from alcohol and drink lots of water.  No need to tell me twice.

Ten years ago when I was playing au pair to my two young sisters during the summer of 2001 while our dad was in the hospital following surgery on his brain stem, our routine included trips to the JCC for their swim lessons.  One day, the Gift of Life organization had a table set up and asked if I’d be interested in signing up as a donor.  Not knowing what all was involved, and thinking it was as simple as a blood donation, I joined the global registry, and forgot about it.  Until last August when I got a call informing me that there was a 44-year old woman for whom I may be a match. Was I still interested in pursuing the next steps?  There began the questions, the symmetries, soul-searching, and ultimately, the resolution to go through with the process.  The next step, by the way, was a simple cheek swab.

I can’t claim blind altruism and have had many questions during this unfolding.  On top of the specific questions that have come up in relation to this process, there’s the fact that faith and trust have never been my strong suits.  Religion, government, authority, institutions, and anything organized, in general, makes me raise an eyebrow.

As part of this process I will receive subcutaneous shots of Neupogen(R) for the week leading up to the donation.  The Neupogen will increase the production of neutrophils in my system.  The excess neutrophils will be harvested through an apheresis process on May 9 and promptly given to the recipient who will have gone through intensive chemotherapy and radiation to kill her cancerous cells in preparation for my healthy cells.  Smack in the middle of the medical institution, albeit pretty miraculous, there are unknowns and risks and I have trepidation.  Then again, it is a risk every time you step outside your door.  Sometimes you don’t even have to step outside your door, the risk comes to you.  I am stepping outside my door in a very active way, asking questions, and choosing to trust that it is all going to work out better than fine.  Nothing less than an adventure – donor and recipient, two protagonists on shared but separate journeys, facing obstacles and being changed by the process.

My familial conditioning to be the responsible one has instilled in me a strong desire to mend lives.  And this opportunity, as I’ve come to perceive it, hit me ‘where I live’ as the saying goes.  The juxtaposition of the words ‘jaded’ and ‘shaman’ have been used to describe me.  In the spirit of the jaded shaman, I have stepped gingerly, one foot in front of the other, to walk through the doors of Cornell tomorrow.