"A GIFT OF HOPE"
I’m dreaming of a white Christmas....
“Yeah, right,” Johnny muttered, as he changed the TV channel with a hard twist of the knob. “It’s gonna be eighty degrees on Christmas Day.”
“Hey, turn it back! I like that movie,” Chet protested, waving a dish towel in the air. “It’s a--”
“--Yeah, I know. It’s a classic,” Johnny retorted sarcastically. “You’re supposed to be making dinner, not watching TV.”
“Unlike you, I can do two things at once,” Kelly snapped back. Johnny’s “mood” was getting on his last nerve. “I want to watch the rest of that movie.”
Johnny walked away from the TV without changing the channel again. “Well, I want to eat before we get toned out again. And, I don’t want to watch any dumb movies.”
Chet threw the towel on the table in disgust. “Well, ex-cuse me, Mr. Scrooge. What’s your problem anyway, Gage? You been a bad boy and now you’re afraid all you’re gonna get in your stocking is a… a lump of coal?”
“Gentlemen,” Stanley interrupted, “it’s Sunday. It’s a day of rest. So give it a rest. Okay?”
“Ca-aap,” Chet entreated, “I’ve been watching it for over an hour, and Gage comes in like he owns the place....”
“Oh, all right. Fine. Watch your movie,” Johnny grumbled, and left the room.
A veteran of sibling skirmishes on the home front, Roy barely paid attention to the bickering and got out of his chair without a word, and changed the channel back.
… and may all your Christmases be white.
“Great. I watch the whole movie just to hear Bing Crosby sing that song, and I miss it because Gage is in a lousy mood,” Chet said irritably. “You know, Roy, the rest of us aren’t any happier about having to work on Christmas day than that partner of yours, but does he have to be such a Grinch? It’s not like we haven’t known about it all year long. What is his problem?”
“I don’t know.” Roy shrugged in apology. He didn’t have a clue what had Johnny so uptight. “Says he doesn’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t a problem until about a week ago. I do know he’s been trying to find someone to cover his shift, but so far, he hasn’t found any takers.”
“What about you, Roy?” Marco asked. “I thought you’d be the one who would want to be home on Christmas morning with your kids.”
“Well, Dwyer said he’d stay over a few hours so I could watch them open their presents, but he’s got to leave by ten. Besides, Joanne’s mother is in town, so I… uh… I really don’t mind working.”
Stanley peered over the top of the newspaper. “Maybe we should get my mother-in-law together with your mother-in-law someday. They could compare notes and see which one has the worst son-in-law.”
“The way Gage is acting, I think I’d rather have both your mothers-in-law here instead of him,” Chet said, as he put the pot of stew on the table. “Someone want to tell him dinner is ready?”
“I’ll go get him,” Mike offered, waving Roy off.
To everyone’s surprise, Hank Stanley stood up. “I’ll go talk to him,” he said quietly.
Stanley found Johnny sitting in the squad with the passenger door open, reading a letter. “Sorry, Cap,” he mumbled without looking up. “I’m running out of time.”
“I know, John,” he said sympathetically. “I’ve done everything I can, but headquarters doesn’t feel they can make an exception. I’ve told them what the situation is, without telling them everything, but policy is policy. This just doesn’t fall under the civil service category of emergency medical leave. Your only out is to find someone to fill in for you.”
Johnny sighed a long, drawn-out sigh of frustration. “I suppose I could call in sick, and they could force someone to come in. I'd hate to do that, it being Christmas and all. Besides, now that headquarters knows I want the day off, it might look like… like… I don’t know. Insubordination or somethin’. I don’t need to get in trouble over this.”
“Maybe if you explained why you need the time off,” Stanley suggested, “I’ll bet the other paramedics would stand in line to help.”
“I don’t want anyone to know. I haven’t even told Roy. I wish someone would just do it. I’ve covered for a lot of these guys without asking why. And, now when I need a favor.... Well, it doesn’t seem right.”
“I agree with you, John, but it is short notice. People have already made plans. I hate to say this, but it seems to me there’s a lot more at stake here than your wish for privacy. Maybe you should reconsider not wanting to give a reason.”
“I suppose you’re right, Cap,” Johnny relented. “I just don’t want anybody making a big deal out of it. I’ve still got a few more calls to make. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”
“What are you going to do if you don’t get lucky?”
“Well, Brackett said he could pull a few strings. I was kinda hopin’ it wouldn’t come to that, though.”
“Hopefully, it won’t. But, in the meantime, you think you can take it easy on the troops in there?” Stanley asked with a tilt of his head toward the rec room. “Maybe it’s none of my business, but I think you should tell them what’s going on. They are your friends, you know.”
Johnny folded the letter, and slid out of the squad. “I know that. It’s hard to explain. It’s just that this is… this is personal, and I want to keep it that way.”
“I’ll respect your wishes, John.” Stanley gently clapped him on the back. “Now, why don't we go see what epicurean delight Kelly’s serving up tonight.”
Johnny shut the door, took two steps, and turned right back around when the tones sounded, dispatching the squad for a possible heart attack.
“Hey, Cap,” he called over his shoulder, “tell Chet... Scrooge says the movie’s on again tomorrow morning.”
* * * * * * * *
“Hey, Dix.”
She looked up with a smile at the sound of his voice. “Hi, Johnny. Roy should be out in a minute. Dr. Early says your patient’s going to be fine. He might even get to go home for Christmas.”
“He’s one of the lucky ones, then.”
“Yes, he is.” Dixie frowned at the dejected look on the young paramedic’s face. “Johnny, you… you sound a little down. Still no one to cover your shift?”
Johnny leaned his forearms on the desk and gave her a half-hearted half-grin. “Not yet, but I’m still workin’ on it.”
“Still working on what?” Roy asked from across the hallway.
“Nothin’,” Johnny mumbled, then straightened up. “Let’s get going. I’m hungry.” He grabbed the handi talkie off the counter, and started down the hallway, with Roy a few reluctant steps behind. Johnny almost ran into Kelly Brackett coming around the corner.
“Johnny, I’m glad you’re here. I was about to give you a call at the station. I just got off the phone with Dr. Farrell, and....”
“Uh… Doc,” Johnny said, glancing nervously at Roy. “Could we… talk about this in your office?”
Brackett could have kicked himself for undoubtedly opening a can of worms between these two. “Sure, John. Roy, would you excuse us?”
Johnny winced inwardly at the look on Roy’s face. He felt like he was betraying their friendship by not including him on the extremely short list of those who knew the score. He opened his mouth to say something, but Roy turned on his heels, muttering something about getting a cup of coffee.
“I’m sorry about that,” Brackett apologized, ushering Johnny into his office. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s all right, Doc. I’ll square it with him one of these days. What did you want to talk about?”
“John, we’ve only got two more days to get everything finalized. Dr. Farrell will be here on Wednesday, and we need to know if you’re going to be able to go through with this.”
“I’ll find a way,” Johnny said with determination.
“Good. Then, have a seat for just a minute, and we’ll go over a few details about the surgery.” Brackett sat on the edge of his desk rather than behind it, sensing Johnny needed a friend more than an authority figure right now. “We want to make sure you fully understand the risks....”
Back at the base station, Roy poured a cup of coffee, and leaned against the counter, watching Dixie make some notes on a chart. He got the distinct impression she was trying to ignore him.
“Who’s Dr. Farrell?” he inquired anyway. Roy didn’t miss the fact her hand hesitated for a beat before she finished writing and put the chart away.
Without meeting his gaze, she gave him an answer, though not as much as she knew Roy wanted to hear. “Jason Farrell. He’s a friend of Dr. Brackett’s. They interned together at the Mayo Clinic." Dixie looked up as the light panel flashed, indicating help was needed in Treatment 2. Saved by the bell. “Sorry, Roy. I’ve got to get going.”
“And, Johnny knows Dr. Farrell?” he asked of no one in particular after she left.
“What’s that?” Mike Morton said as he walked up.
“Nothin’,” Roy murmured. “I was just wondering who Dr. Jason Farrell was. Do you know him?”
“I don’t know him, but I know of him,” Morton answered, reaching for the coffee pot. “He’s considered one of the leading authorities in the field of oncology. A real pioneer in research, I understand. Why do you ask?”
Roy’s eyebrows knitted in puzzlement. “Oncology?” Cancer, he translated mentally. “No reason. Just heard the name and was curious. Mike, do you… do you know what’s going on? With Johnny, I mean.”
Morton took his glasses off to rub his tired eyes. “Going on? I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He swallowed some coffee and put his glasses back on. “I’ve got a patient waiting for me. You take it easy, okay? And, if I don’t see you before, have a Merry Christmas.”
Roy felt Morton was being straight with him. One of the few who was. “Yeah, sure," he said absently. "You too.”
He tried to remember if he had even asked Johnny why he needed the day off so badly. Wrapped up in his own problems -- mostly petty, mother-in-law related ones -- Roy didn’t think he had. Then he tried to remember if Johnny had tried to tell him, and he realized that hadn’t happened either. Whatever it was, he hadn’t come to him, and it was obvious now, Johnny didn’t want him to know.
Roy knew he wasn’t Johnny’s only friend -- he had a multitude of them -- but he had always thought their relationship was a strong one, built on trust, and that they could confide anything in each other. To think that Johnny might be sick, and wouldn’t share that with him, made Roy wonder if their friendship was all he thought it was.
While he couldn’t deny his disappointment, and maybe even a little anger at being left out, he was ashamed to think he was putting his feelings ahead of whatever Johnny might be facing. Roy decided he wouldn’t pry. It wasn’t going to be easy, because his stomach was already knotted with worry, as his mind ran through the possibilites. They all lead to just one frightening thing.
Cancer.
* * * * * * * *
“Roy… I....” Johnny faltered, unable to finish his sentence.
Roy cut the ignition and they sat there in silence for a minute. It was late, and it looked like the rest of the crew had turned in for the night. “Just tell me one thing, Johnny,” Roy said as he opened the door to get out. “Are you gonna be all right?”
Already feeling guilty, the hurt in Roy’s voice made him feel twice as bad. “Yeah. I think so. Roy, it… it’s not that--”
“--Johnny, you don’t have to tell me what’s going on just because you think you owe me an explanation. I’d rather it be because you want to tell me. You know, I thought...,” Roy’s voice trailed off.
“You thought what, Roy?”
With a little shake of his head, Roy got out of the squad. He pushed the button and watched the door roll down all the way before trying to talk to Johnny again. But, when he turned around, the squad was empty, and he was standing in the bay, all alone.
* * * * * * * *
“Merry Christmas!” C-shift’s greetings filled the rec room, a little more enthusiastic than A-shift’s, since they were now on their way home.
In truth, except for Gage, none of them had really minded being on duty today. It was a beautiful, sunny morning, and even though considered a work day, they all knew Captain Stanley would keep the chores to a minimum. His wife and Marco’s mom were going to come by later with probably more food than they could possibly eat, and that alone made it worth showing up.
“You know, if I wasn’t going to meet my future in-laws today,” Dwyer said, “I would have worked the whole shift for Roy. Or for Johnny, for that matter. Does anybody know if he found someone to cover for him?”
“I sure hope so,” Chet answered around the cinnamon roll he had stuffed in his mouth. “He’s been hard enough to live with these last few shifts. I don’t know what his problem was, but I hope it’s fixed before we see him again.”
“Chet, be nice. It’s Christmas,” Stanley said as he sauntered in with a new face in tow. “This is Ruben Sandoval. He’s a paramedic over at 86s. Gonna fill in for Gage today. Introduce yourselves, and make him feel welcome. Roll call in fifteen minutes. And, by the way, Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Cap,” echoed the others as he left the room.
“Sandoval, good to see you again,” Dwyer said from his spot on the couch. “I’m just staying over for a few hours until DeSoto shows up. This here’s Chet Kelly, Marco Lopez, and Mike Stoker.”
Chet got ready to go fishing. “So, Ruben. Gage managed to con you into taking his shift for him, huh?” Chet wouldn’t admit it, but he was as curious as anyone about Johnny’s plans, and wondered if he could get the information out of the newcomer.
“Well, not exactly. Johnny called me a few days ago, and I told him I couldn’t.” Sandoval paused long enough to accept the cup of coffee Marco handed him. “My mother was in the hospital, and it wasn’t a good time. You know, he said it was no problem, but he sounded kind of desperate. I felt really bad because he’s helped me out before.”
Chet was openly curious now. “So, what changed your mind?”
Sandoval looked a little confused by it himself. “Well, I went to midnight Mass last night. It’s a family tradition on Christmas eve, and besides, we have a lot to be thankful for. My mother was doing better, and my wife and I are expecting our first baby any day now. I was sitting there with my brothers and sisters and their kids, listening to the priest, and all of a sudden, God spoke to me and told me that I had to do this for Johnny. So, I called him at home at two o’clock this morning and said I’d come in after all.”
“And, he never told you why he had to have the day off?” Chet was digging now, just short of begging for answers.
“No, he didn’t, and I didn’t ask. He just sounded really grateful. When I told him why I changed my mind, he said something about hoping one miracle would lead to another. Anybody know what he meant by that?”
There was a general shaking of heads around the room.
“I didn’t think Johnny was very religious,” Marco spoke up. “He never says much about it. You know, I feel kind of bad, too. We all gave him a hard time about wanting the day off. I didn’t think that maybe there could be something wrong.”
“Yeah, now that you mention it,” Chet added, “he did seem kind of worried about something. I was too busy being annoyed with him to notice it then. I wonder if Roy knows.”
“I don’t think so,” Mike said. “I got the feeling they weren’t speaking to each other when we left the other day.”
“Roll call!” Stanley’s voice ricocheted through the bay, summoning them for the dispensing of department news and duties for the day.
“Let’s hope God spoke to Cap, too,” Chet whispered to Marco, “and told him not to make us hang hose today.”
“You know, Chet,” Marco whispered back, “That would be a miracle.”
* * * * * * * *
The day passed uneventfully with only three minor runs for the squad. Chet volunteered to mow the lawn. Marco and Mike kept busy cleaning the station, while Roy and Ruben polished the squad between runs. Stanley plodded through paperwork, and couldn’t keep from watching the clock all afternoon. Visits by family members throughout the day, and dinner of ham and tamales, sweet potatoes and frijoles, dessert of coconut cake and flan, helped make it a joyful Christmas.
When the dishes were done, and all was quiet, the crew settled in for the evening, and turned on the TV to watch yet another holiday movie. The mood was subdued. No one had mentioned Gage’s absence, but they had all felt it all day, and even more so now. There were presents under their small tree, unopened still. It didn’t seem right without Johnny there.
The phone rang, and Stanely got up to answer it. No one paid too much attention when he put the call on hold, and went to his office. When he came back into the rec room, he stood there for a few minutes before quietly asking for everyone’s attention.
Mike turned the volume down on the television, and they all turned in their chairs to face their captain.
“That was John on the phone,” he explained. “He asked me to wish you all a Merry Christmas for him. He especially wanted to thank you again, Ruben.”
“Cap, where is he?” Roy was shaken by the heavy emotion in Stanley’s voice. “Is he all right?”
“Actually, Roy, he wants to see you. I told him I thought it would be okay if you and Ruben went over to Rampart, as long as you stayed available.”
“Rampart?” “Cap, what’s going on?” “What’s the matter with Johnny?” The anxious questions flew at him until he held up his hands.
“I saw John yesterday, and managed to persuade him to let me tell you what he was doing. He insisted I wait until after it was over. He doesn’t want what I’m about to tell you to leave this room. Ever. If it was up to me, I’d want everyone to know, but we’re going to respect his right to keep this private. Agreed?”
“Sure, Cap,” came the solemn promises, one by one, from around the room.
“All right, then. He gave me this letter to share with you. I think it pretty much says it all.” Stanley sat down and unfolded the paper. He had read it once already, finally understanding it wasn’t just his own privacy Johnny was guarding so zealously. The words still stuck in his throat the second time around.
Dear Donor,
Dr. Farrell has explained a dozen times why we can’t meet or talk in person, or even know each other’s identities, but I still don’t understand it. If I could see your face, touch your hand, or just know your name, it would make this so much easier. Words on a piece of paper can’t begin to tell you how grateful my husband and I are for what you are about to do. We asked God for a miracle to save our daughter’s life, and He has sent you to help her.
This is all so new, and the risks are many. To know that you are willing to take a chance to help perfect strangers tells me all I need to know about the kind of person you are.
My husband and I are well-known public figures, and wealthy beyond anyone’s right to be. Yet all the connections, and all the money in the world wouldn’t have been enough to save the precious life of a beautiful five-year old. You could have been a rich man for the rest of your life, had you accepted our offer. Instead, the money will go to fund research to find a cure for childhood cancers and immune disorders, as you requested. We would gladly make that donation in your name, if we only knew it. Our daughter’s illness is a very private matter, and because of our wish to protect her from the perhaps well-meaning, but overbearing, public eye, it will go as an anonymous contribution. We can only pray that someday other children might be spared this nightmare.
The doctors are not giving us assurances this will save her life. I assume they’ve told you that, too. But, without the bone marrow transplant, it is certain she will die very soon. If nothing else, if it gives her even one day without the pain and suffering she has known for the last six months, then it will be worth it.
We haven’t been told anything about you, except that you are a young fireman. We want you to know what a priceless gift you are giving this Christmas day. It is not the gift of life, because only God can give that. It is a gift of hope. It still comes from God, and it is the same gift He gave the world on Christmas day so many years ago. You are his messenger, and it is our prayer that He will always watch over you, and keep you safe. You have offered to give up Christmas day with your loved ones so that we can share one more with ours. I hope they understand what a wonderful, unselfish thing you are doing.
A simple thank you isn’t enough, but it is the only thing we can think of to say right now. Thank you again for giving us hope, when we thought there was none left.
We remain forever in your debt.
* * * * * * * *
Roy knocked softly on the door before entering. Dixie, off the clock now, was there, sitting in a chair by the bed. The lights were low. Johnny was asleep.
“How is he?” Roy asked quietly.
“He’s had a real hard time coming out of the anesthesia. He’s gotten sick a few times, but Dr. Brackett thinks he’ll be feeling better in the morning. He should be able to go home sometime tomorrow.”
“I don’t know much about bone marrow transplants,” Roy admitted. “It sounds kind of scary. Is he going to have to miss work?”
“Not since you’ve got four days off now. They harvest the marrow from the back of the pelvic bones. He’ll have some discomfort in his lower back for a few days, and maybe feel a little achy, but recovery is pretty quick. Even though he’s gone through surgery, it isn’t all that complicated. It took about an hour and a half to aspirate the amount of marrow needed.”
Johnny awoke at the sound of their voices. It was the first time since he initally came around that he didn’t feel nauseous, and that was a step in the right direction.
“Hey, Roy,” he said drowsily. “Merry Christmas.”
“The guys all wanted me to say the same to you. How are you feelin’?”
“Better now. Man, you should see the needles they use. Remind me never to complain ‘bout a little tetanus shot again.”
Relieved to hear Johnny joke about it, Roy felt his disappointment return. “Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think I’d try to talk you out of it?”
“Roy, I... I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to spoil your Christmas with your family. I know how you worry. The little girl didn’t have much time, and this was the only day Dr. Farrell could be here. Not somethin’ just anyone can do. Not yet, anyway.”
“It wouldn’t have spoiled anything. Johnny, we’re friends. I worried anyway. I thought it was....” Roy bit his tongue. Johnny had been through enough without adding undeserved guilt. “Never mind what I thought it was. How soon will they know about her… the little girl?”
“They’ve already done the transplant,” Dixie stepped in, not sure how awake Johnny had been when he had asked the same question. “It’ll be a while before they know if it was successful. Even if she doesn’t reject the marrow, she has a long road ahead of her.”
“How did they figure out Johnny was a match for her?” Roy questioned. “From what I’ve read, I thought only family members could be successful donors.”
“That’s what everyone thought until about a year ago.” Johnny flinched when he shifted around in the bed, looking for a more comfortable position. “Turns out family members aren’t always the answer. They’ve been workin’ hard to find a way to find and match unrelated donors with recipients.”
“But, how did you get involved?”
“It was kind of a fluke, really,” Dixie said, watching Johnny’s eyes begin to droop again. “Johnny was here one day when Dr. Farrell had stopped by to see Kell. They were talking about this little girl, and Johnny offered to be tested. It was one chance in a million, but they figured it couldn’t hurt. There wasn’t much time and very little hope. I don’t think anyone can explain it, except to say it was a match made in heaven.”
Johnny yawned and blinked sleepily. “I hate to spoil the party, but… I’m kinda tired.”
Roy wasn’t fooled by the reason for the dismissal. Stanley had said Johnny had insisted no one make a big deal of what he’d done, and it seemed like he was going to stick to his guns. “Ruben’s waiting downstairs. We need to get back to the station anyway. You need a ride home tomorrow?”
“No, I drove here, and they said I should be fine to drive home. It’s not very far. I’m just gonna take it easy for a few days. But, thanks. And, tell Ruben I’ll call him.”
Dixie pulled the blanket up, and tucked it around him, then gave his hand an affectionate pat. “I’ll see you in the morning before you leave. Merry Christmas, Johnny.”
“Thanks for staying with me, Dix. I ‘preciate it. Merry Christmas.”
Realizing Roy had something he wanted to say to Johnny, Dixie left the room, telling him she’d wait outside and ride down in the elevator with him.
“We decided to wait to open presents until you came back to work,” Roy said, feeling uncomfortable. He knew Johnny had figured out he had been upset with him, and why.
“That’s nice. Tell the guys I said thanks. For everything.” Johnny watched Roy shift from foot to foot. “Roy, you’re starting to make me feel nauseous again.”
“Oh, sorry. I... I mean that. I’m sorry. I should have known you had a good reason for not saying anything. I was just… I was just worried you were sick, and I didn’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s why I finally gave Cap the letter to read. I thought it explained it better than I could have.”
“You did a good thing, Johnny.”
Johnny shook his head. “No. After all I’ve learned in the last two weeks, what I did was nothing compared to what these families, and what these kids go through. It’s nothing compared to the work people like Dr. Farrell are doing to find a cure.”
“Are you ever going to have a chance to meet them? In person?”
“We signed an agreement to only communicate in basically anonymous letters for a year. After that, it’s up to us if we want to meet or not.”
“Do you want to?”
“I don’t know,” Johnny answered truthfully. “I mean, I want to know how she’s doing. But… I just don’t know about meeting them. They’ve already said thank you. That’s enough.”
“You know, Johnny, sometimes it’s all right to take credit for doing a good thing,” Roy said with a knowing smile. “It’s all right to be a hero.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t want anyone else to know about this,” Johnny objected. “I’m no hero, and I won’t let anyone make me out to be one. Other people have done this, too. It’s personal, Roy. It needs to stay that way.”
“Well, I imagine you’ll always be a hero to that little girl and her parents, whether you want to be or not. But, I think I understand what you’re saying, so I won’t mention it again.”
“Thanks. And Roy…, Merry Christmas. Now, how about you leave and let me get some sleep?”
“All right. I know when I’ve worn out my welcome.” Roy opened the door to leave. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow afternoon.”
“Go home tomorrow and hug your kids, Roy. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Johnny.”
Roy stepped out of the room to find Dixie waiting in the hallway for him. “He is going to be all right, isn’t he, Dix?”
“He’s going to be fine. Did Johnny tell you how much money they offered him… I mean, after he’d already agreed to be a donor?”
“No, he didn’t. Was it a lot?”
“Let’s just say the research program to find a cure for childhood cancer is going to be a million dollars richer now,” Dixie said in amazement. “He didn’t want a single penny of it. I guess you could say he gave the gift of hope to more than just one little girl.”
“Do you ever wonder, Dix,” Roy said as they walked to the elevator, “how these things happen? I mean, if Johnny hadn’t been in the emergency room that day, that minute....”
She gave it some silent thought as they rode down to the first floor. “I’m sure some would say it was coincidence. Some would say it was fate. Still others, like Ruben Sandoval, would say it was the hand of God. Maybe we’re not supposed to know.”
“Maybe not,” Roy murmured in agreement. “You know, I... I think we just got a lesson in the real meaning of Christmas.”
“I think you’re right,” she said softly.
They walked outside together. Ruben was waiting in the squad for Roy. Dixie took a deep breath of the cool air, and pulled her sweater tight. The moon was a bright crescent nestled among the stars scattered across the night sky.
“It was a good Christmas, Roy.”
“Yes it was, Dix. Yes it was.”
* * * * * * * *
Thirty years ago, a bone marrow transplant from one sibling to another was a cutting edge medical procedure for the treatment and cure of severe combined immunodeficiency syndrome. Marrow transplants from donors unrelated to recipients was experimental, risky, and uncertain at best. It wasn't until 1979 that the first patient with leukemia was treated with an unrelated bone marrow transplant.
It still took many years, and an Act of Congress, to smooth the way in the United States for the establishment of a nationwide donor registry, which began operations in July 1986. Today, there are more than 5 million volunteer donors listed on the National Donor Marrow Program registry, the largest stem cell donor registry in the world.
Donors and recipients and their families in the United States are not allowed personal contact with each other for a year after the transplant. Some countries have a two-year restriction, others never permit the release of identities.
Thanks to ongoing research, many advances have been made in blood stem cell transplantation, and more people are living longer, healthier lives as a result.
While organizations like NDMP, and others around the world, are in need of more donors, it’s important to remember that not all gifts of hope have to come in such a dramatic manner.
A simple act of kindness can often make the difference in someone’s life.
I wish you a holiday season of peace, hope, and happiness.
Nan, Christmas 2003
