Saturday, August 7, 2010

Undone

Recently I noticed that sitting in my car was uncomfortable. I felt a bit better standing up or reclining in a chair, but sitting upright in my car bothered my torso in a startling way. Not a stranger to medical mishaps, I was only a bit worried until one afternoon when I heard a sound after my butt hit the seat.

Snap.

The tightness in my torso disappeared. I lifted my shirt and saw what relieved and despaired me: two halves of an open button clasp splayed in different directions, held together by a zipper that slowly descended as I leaned forward. My gut was free at last.

My dependable metabolism is slipping. Since that moment I have worn my 13-year-old cargo shorts with the fly button undone. The shorts feel like elastic forgiveness. I feel better in the simplest of ways.

The one drawback is that I have a tendency to scratch my stomach and chest, so my method reveals itself. I obviously love self deprecating humor, but the news sounds different when I am not the one reporting.

"Your button is undone," someone said.

"I know," I responded. "I like it like that." Embrace it, I thought. If you think it's sexy, then it's sexy. Own it. Love it. Scratch it. I used to say I wanted this to happen because I thought it would not. It happened; I do not like it. But I think I do not like it because I did not write about it before other people told me about it.

I planned to run a bit in the cool mornings, but I cannot wake up before 10. Right now I have no plans at 8:45 on a Saturday night, but I do have a recently revived iPod, a workout playlist and a zipper that hangs on like two lovebirds twirling each other in an open pasture.

Let's go.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Cookie

If you read my previous posts, you know that my mom has leukemia and my sister, Jaylyn, is living with us in Chapel Hill. This necessary proximity reminds us of the traits we share and, of course, the ones we do not. We lived together for more than a dozen years, but drifting into my mid 20s among college buddies a region away from home clouded my memory.

The three of us were eating lunch at an expensive place that would not give this little piggy enough roast beef. They both love places like that, but I like my beef sandwiches cheap and thick.

"Do you want to get some dessert?" my mom asked me.

"Mom, I never eat dessert," I said. "The main course is my dessert."

"You like cookies," she said. She was right. She remembered that I liked cookies when I did not. I went to the counter to get a cookie and brought it back.

"Cookies are the best dessert," I said. My mom and sister both nodded in unison. "Besides having amazing texture and flavor, they are the easiest dessert to eat. All you need to do is pick one up and take a bite. A cookie is simple."

My mom nodded, picked up her plastic utensils and strained to knife the cookie into two unequal pieces.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Good morning

On her birthday, my aunt called my mom to tell her she has a match. I am ever so tempted to break with journalistic discipline and use an exclamation point.

!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

My mom and the Be The Match Registry

This post is an unpaid endorsement for the Be The Match Registry, a nonprofit organization that matches willing, unrelated stem cell donors with patients who need a life-saving transplant. To become a registry member or donate to the cause, visit www.bethematch.org.

My mom was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia at the end of May. I am happy to say that she is in complete remission and finished her first round of consolidation chemotherapy Saturday. Consolidation is a type of chemo given to patients who are in complete remission after receiving induction chemotherapy. You can think of consolidation chemo as a way of kicking the cancer when it is down.

She has handled her treatment well, and her body has responded in the best ways possible. Her immune system will be weak after treatments and strong after recoveries, but her spirits are consistently high. She is often out and about in Chapel Hill and Durham.

My mom's cytogenetic profile signaled doctors that she is at a high risk for relapse, so getting an allogeneic stem cell transplant is her best chance for a cure. Allogeneic means that the transplant will come from another person. Stem cells are cells that produce all types of blood cells.

Allogeneic transplant donors can be a related family member or an unrelated donor. Doctors examine cheek cell swabs from the patient and prospective donors to determine the best match. My family is hoping that my mom's sister, Martha, will be a good match for my mom. Doctors say that a sibling will match 25 percent of the time. Parent and child matches are even less common.

If Martha does not match, the hospital will match my mom with the best-fit donor from the National Marrow Donor Program's Be The Match Registry, a list of people who have pledged to donate bone marrow or stem cells to any patient in need of a transplant. Doctors told us that my mom will more than likely find a suitable donor in the registry because she is white. The registry encourages anyone to join because a larger pool of donors will produce better matches for all patients, but they also urgently need donors who are black, American Indian, Asian, Pacific, Hispanic and of multiple races.

The NMDP has facilitated nearly 40,000 transplants worldwide. Seventy percent of all allogeneic transplant patients do not match with a family member and need an unrelated donor match. The chance that two random individuals are a suitable match is one in 20,000. Many donors are not only the best match for a patient; they are the only match on the registry of 12 million people.

My sister and I joined the registry online and are letting our friends know about it. Be The Match sent us cheek swabs and information, and we swabbed and sent them back. The donor process is virtually painless and completely free. Be The Match reimburses all travel and related costs for all donors. Most people we know in the registry have never been called to donate but pledge to do so when a patient needs them.

Doctors draw donations through a marrow harvest or a peripheral blood stem cell donation depending on the patient's needs. You are probably most familiar with a marrow harvest, which is actually the least common donation method. It is a surgical, out-patient procedure in which doctors use anesthesia and needles to withdraw liquid marrow from the pelvic bone. My mom is terrified of needles and had several bone marrow biopsies; she said they were easy. She gets goofy drugs for a few hours, but she never experienced pain. She prefers a marrow harvest to a needle prick without anesthesia.

PBSC donations are much more common. For five days before the donation, the donor receives daily injections of a drug that increases blood-forming stem cells in the bloodstream. On the fifth day, the donor's blood is removed through a needle in one arm and passed through a machine that separates out the stem cells. The remaining blood is returned to the donor through the other arm. The process is similar to donating platelets. Donors may experience a headache or bone or muscle aches before the collection.

Deciding to join the registry is a very personal decision. I did not know I had the opportunity to be someone's living best chance at life before my mom got sick; I thought only family members could donate. I want you to know that you could be someone's best chance if you decide to join the registry. Receiving a transplant is a transplant patient's best or only hope for a cure.

Please ask me questions if you have any even though you can probably get all your answers at www.bethematch.org. Joining the registry is quick and easy. The site also accepts donations that help to aid families with uninsured transplant costs, fully reimburse donors, fund medical research and add donors to the registry.

People tell me that they think about and pray for my family often. I always think about them in return whenever we get good news. I hope our next good news will be that my mom has a match.