I had volunteered to be in the Gift of Life Bone Marrow Registry when Barry Mishkin z’tl was waiting for a life-saving match. I went to that recruitment drive knowing that I might be called upon to undergo a medical procedure with some risk and some discomfort. I certainly did not believe that I would actually get the call a year later that I was a match for someone else.
I am one of the privileged few. My tissue type matched an eight year old boy who was dying from a rare blood disease. My bone marrow could save his life. There were no other matches for this boy. I got the call from Gift of Life as my wife, Karen and I were getting the kids ready for Shabbos, prior to Pesach 2003. I was told that the boy was dying and he needed me to donate bone marrow if he had any hope of surviving.
The question posed to me was simple: Are you willing to undergo this procedure to save this little boy’s life? I remember my first thought was that this could just as easily be one of my kids who needed someone else’s father to help them. Without further thought I said yes. I went back to the kids, but did not tell Karen for about an hour. During that hour I was mulling over how to discuss this. Shouldn’t it really be a family decision as there was some risk involved- anesthesia, pain, and some soreness? Karen’s first reaction was the same as mine. “Yes, you have to do this.”
The next few weeks unfolded with confirmatory blood work, medical screening to be sure that I was healthy, and then waiting. I knew that someplace in the world (the boy’s identity and location were kept secret until he and I met a year and three months later) a little boy’s bone marrow and immune system were being destroyed with chemotherapy in preparation for receiving my healthy marrow which was to be harvested just before Memorial Day 2003. Most donors have their blood filtered in a process similar to kidney dialysis. Due to this boy’s age and disease, my donation would involve undergoing a procedure to surgically withdraw 750cc of liquid bone marrow from my two pelvic bones with large bore needles.
On my way to New York Hospital, I kept thinking that the risk of being a passenger in a car was probably greater than that of the epidural anesthesia and the collection procedure. The epidural needle did hurt, but the procedure was a blur from the IV sedation. I remember my teeth chattering and feeling cold as the IV took effect. The next thing I remember, I was in the recovery room talking to my father and the nurse who was checking my blood count.
My back hurt. It was stiff, and that nagging sciatica seemed to be back. As I began to move around the chair in recovery, I realized that I was alright. Sore, but alright. The marrow was being prepared so that it could quickly be taken to the little boy who would receive it the next day. I felt very proud of myself. As my wife will attest, I don’t do well with pain, but here I was after the surgery sipping apple juice, dealing with it, and a little boy was going to have the chance to live. A little boy who was almost the same age as my kids. Now, he might be able to go to school and play and grow-up and be with his family. All I had to do was have a sore back.
The boy received my marrow the next day. By day three after the procedure, I was walking slowly and driving my kids to a birthday party. I was back to work by day five. My lower back felt like I had fallen on the ice, but it was getting better with nothing but movement and the occasional Motrin. I tried to convince my wife that my epidural anesthesia gave me a glimpse of her experience with childbirth- she still laughs at the mere mention of this.
I was not given any information about the child’s condition for the first three months, and kept referring to him as “the little boy” when I would include him in my davening. After three months, Gift of Life gave me the first update. He was doing well. His body accepted the marrow and he was gaining strength. He was expected to recover, but it would take time. The first year after marrow transplant is critical. After about six months, I received a letter from the boy’s parents (the names and address were cut-out in order to preserve anonymity). The letter thanked me and told me that he was able to throw out the first pitch at a local little league game. My first thought was B’H he is getting better and can throw a ball just like my kids. His parents can have the joy that we feel when we see our kids doing something so simple.
The little boy’s name is Brian. He did very well and he is cured. As it turns out, our birthdays are only two days apart. Since he and I met at an event sponsored by Gift of Life at Shea Stadium (click here to read about the event), people are now more aware of the need for Jews to join the registry and be willing to donate marrow. It is not enough to send donations, as dollars cannot fill blood vessels with healthy cells.
We all have children and friends who need our help now or may need us in the future. There may be a stranger somewhere in the world who needs someone uniquely able to donate cells. The world is a lot smaller than we realize. Please be sure to join the registry.
Adam is an Ophthalmologist. He lives in Woodmere, NY with his wife Karen and his children Samantha and Justin.
