1,096 Days Out: August 5K

The life you save may be your own.

I’m not your average three-year-old.

I’m 2-1/2 feet taller than other girls my age. My vocabulary is 20 times bigger. And I don’t nap in the afternoon. Well, not every afternoon.

Today is my third birthday, transplantically speaking. And as such, is the focus of my August 5K in my year-long “5K for Awareness Quest.”

I’m 1,096 days out from the stem cell transplant I had on Aug. 12, 2015, to force me into remission from multiple myeloma. I didn’t actually reach remission until September 8, 2016, but transplant patients celebrate their “second” birthdays on the annual date of their transplant.

An average of over 20,000 stem cell transplants are performed in the United States every year to combat blood and bone marrow cancers like leukemia, lymphoma, and multiple myeloma. Success rates are as high as 90% or more.

Over 55% percent of stem cell transplants are autologous, meaning the donor and the patient is the same person (which was my situation). The remaining transplants are allogeneic which rely on an outside donor, either a sibling or family member of the patient or a volunteer who’s a match.

In an average year, 8,500 people are needed to donate stem cells. Small number with a big impact. Want to be one of them? Find out more at cancer.org and bethematch.org. Donors are also needed for other types of transplants, like organs, eyes, and tissue. Get the lowdown at donatelife.net.

Since you’re learning about stem cell transplants today, I’ll leave you with this quirky fact: if during your stem cell transplant, the room smells like creamed corn, that’s you. Or rather, the preservative used on your stem cells. Don’t worry, the smell goes away…eventually.

Four monthly 5Ks left. Where should I be walking and for who or what in September? Leave me a comment with your ideas and suggestions.

Thanks to my transplant…

On Aug. 12, 2015, I underwent a stem cell transplant, the goal of which was to push my multiple myeloma into remission. The procedure had some unexpected benefits.

Spam, of the non-blue metal can variety.

There are 3,277 less emails in my in-boxes.

I have several email accounts, some that I review on a daily basis, others less often. Recovering from my transplant has given me ample time to cull thousands of unread emails. Among the keepers were guidelines on a new writing contest and a chocolate caramel brownie recipe I’d begged from a friend. Long gone are pleas from the Russian brides to help them find rich American husbands, 120 different secrets on how I can be as thin as Jennifer Aniston, and 294 delivery notifications from UPS for packages I never ordered.

I have a new light fixture in my kitchen. 

The fixture itself had been gathering dust in my basement for five years because the house needs new wiring, the ceiling needs re-painting, we’ll wait until the kitchen is remodeled, etc. Prior to my coming home from the hospital, our house underwent a deep cleaning to protect my weakened immune system. I’m not going to question how the light fixture became a part of that project. I’m just going to smile and bask in the inviting glow now emanating from my kitchen ceiling.

Katie, Andy and Bethannie, members of my amazing transplant team.

My faith in people finding their true calling is renewed.

It takes a special kind of person to work in a transplant unit. And they don’t all grow up knowing that’s what they want to do.

Barb was an accountant for 20 years before her stepmother had a stem cell transplant. Barb was one of her caregivers, which was enough to convince her to devote her professional life to caring for transplant patients. Glenda’s bank customers often remarked on her compassion and sense of humor. She thought she could use those skills to do more to help others and now she does as a nurse technician in the transplant unit.

Many of the incredible people who cared for me during my transplant had similar stories. It convinced me that we all have a place in life where we’re truly supposed to be and no matter how long it takes to find it or what circumstances will ultimately lead us to it, if you want to get there, you will.

I no longer think every day about having cancer.

Because I don’t know if I do. And I won’t know for sure until Day +100 when I have another bone marrow biopsy. That means for the first time in over a year, I’m not on chemo. Sure, there are plenty of other new meds to get used to, but mentally and physically, that break from chemo, no matter how short, is huge to me.

Little victories. We all have them. Thanks to my transplant, I’m finding something to be grateful for every day until the anticipated BIG victory arrives on Day +100.

What little victory are you celebrating today?