I like to take a hike or long walk by myself each year on my birthday. I use the solitude to think about the year that’s just ended, running a highlight reel in my mind. I consider some of the things that went right and those that went wrong. I think about how I might be able do more of the good stuff. While hiking in Manzanita on the Oregon coast a few years ago, I decided I wanted to find a new and different way to do something good during my next trip around the sun. I had no idea what that would be or how I would go about it. Under my breathe, as I approached yet another switchback under the canopy of Sitka spruce trees, I asked whatever higher power might be guiding me to give me some sort of sign so I’d know what this new and different way of doing good might look like.
The sign was affixed with scotch tape to the back seat window of the first car I saw parked on the main road as I finished my hike. Under a photo of a young woman, auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail, were the words in large block letters, URGENT! KIDNEY NEEDED. I couldn’t get to my phone fast enough. Recognizing a sign that obvious didn’t require much brain power… I dialed the phone number right away.
It so happened I was immediately ruled out because my blood type was not compatible with the woman in need. But the wheels were in motion. I called the Transplant Center at my local hospital, and over the course of the next few weeks I underwent a preliminary physical exam and had some blood tests. I was also interviewed by a social worker to see if I was emotionally equipped to undergo the grueling process of giving up one of my organs.
As it turned out, I learned I had two ureters coming from one of my kidneys (most people have one, not two, on each side) and I was told it wouldn’t be wise for me to donate the normal kidney just in case something was to go wrong with the “duplex kidney” sometime down the road. I was disappointed, to say the least.
And off to look for new signs.
In Hebrew, the word for charity is tzedakah. Being Jewish, I grew up learning that to perform an act of tzedakah is to give money. As I got older, I discovered the Golden Ladder or the Ladder of Giving, which lists eight different ways of giving in order of significance (according to Maimonides, a 12th century Jewish scholar). I also learned that the gift doesn’t have to be money. There are so many ways to help others, of course!
At the bottom of the Golden Ladder is giving begrudgingly, in a way that makes the recipient feel disgraced or embarrassed. The top rung is giving whatever it takes (money, time, wisdom) to enable another person to be self-reliant. The second highest rung is giving when neither the donor nor the recipient is aware of the other’s identity.
That brings me to the bone marrow my husband Eddie is scheduled to receive from someone we do not know (and who does not know Eddie). Just over a month from now, someone who signed up for the bone marrow registry and who is a 100% match to Eddie’s human leukocyte antigen (HLA) will enable him to have a bone marrow transplant. Eddie has Acute Myeloid Leukemia, and the only hope for a cure is to replace his bone marrow with that of a healthy donor.
We don’t know anything about his donor, except that they are in their 20’s. They could live in Sweden, for all we know. Or Japan. Or somewhere in the U.S. We don’t know what motivated this person to sign up for the Bone Marrow Registry, what they do for a living or for fun, what their personality is like. We do know they have to commit to blood tests (taken in 2 – 4 different visits), a physical exam, five days of injections to stimulate production of blood stem cells and then the extraction of the cells (which can take up to 8 hours). For a week or so afterwards, they may experience headaches, and/or bone and muscle aches. They will not be paid for any of this. They will not find out who received this extraordinary gift of life unless the revealing of identities is agreed upon by both parties – and that can’t happen for at least one year.
Talk about being near the top of the Golden Ladder!
Eddie will stay in the hospital for 30 days. For the first 100 days, he’ll need to be within a 15-minute drive of the hospital. He’ll require a 24/7 caregiver during that time (me). It will take months for the donor’s cells to eventually replace all of Eddie’s, and during that time Eddie’s immune system will be just like that of a newborn baby. There’s a long list of the things that can go wrong during and after transplant, and it will likely take a full year before he’s back in the swing of things.
He knows what he’s up against, but he’s focusing on the benefits of the procedure and trusting all will go well.
As for the donor, they will recover after a few days and get back to whatever it is they do, wherever they do it. We hope one day to meet this person, so we can express our gratitude.
We’ll tell them about tzedakah, if they don’t already know the term. And how they stand near the very top of a most important ladder. One made of pure gold – just like their heart.
