Personal Narrative: Stem Cells

I was awoken abruptly by the beep of my IV only to realize I was alone, and not in the room that I fell asleep in. As I looked around the brightly colored room, an odd contrast to the melancholy atmosphere of the hospital, confusion gave way to panic. Eventually, a nurse walked in, but despite my persistent questioning she wouldn’t tell me where I was or why I was there. Instead, she tried to distract me with coloring books while I vacillated between dread and disbelief. When my mother and doctor finally found me, the doctor told me that I had acute lymphoblastic leukemia and had been moved to the oncology unit. I went through seven months of chemotherapy, followed by more intense chemo and full body radiation in preparation for my bone marrow transplant. The day I got my transplant was, by oncology standards, relatively normal. It started with an ambulance ride from CHOP to HUP for my final round of radiation. After the radiation, I returned to my hospital room and waited. Finally, a bag of bright red stem cells collected from the veins of my donor came up from the lab and a nurse attached them to a catheter that was surgically implanted in my chest. The moment that I had been waiting for had arrived.
I appreciated my sense of humor which allowed me to make jokes about my chemotherapy rather than crying. I was thankful for friends who stayed by my side and for the support of my family. Most importantly, I was grateful for my anonymous, unrelated bone marrow donor. I wondered what kind of person voluntarily commits their time, energy, and cells to save the life of a stranger who happens to share ten human leukocyte antigen characteristics. I thought that my donor was kind, compassionate, valiant, and so much more. I decided I wanted to be the type of person my donor is and I should emulate the image of my donor by living out these