Stemcell Donation
Today marks two years to the day when Ben had his stemcell transplant in Bristol Children’s Hospital.
It’s amazing, you know, the power that a bag of 45 ml of donated blood stemcells can cause within a hospital. Even as a parent and helpless onlooker to a child going through the debilitating journey of conditioning to prepare their body to receive the stemcells in the first place, it feels like a momentous occasion; one that would warrant a fanfare, a huge announcement across the world to state that your child had made it this far and that someone, somewhere said the vital word in all of this … ‘Yes.’
‘Yes’ is a small word; short, three letters only, but one that in this situation can offer so much hope for a child and family waiting for a transplant.
When Ben’s nurse arrived that afternoon two years ago, with this single bag of stemcells, ready to be transfused into our son, there was an air of palpable excitement on the ward.
My sister and Ella and Rose, Ben’s sisters, waited outside his isolated room. Ben had just been given some Fantastic Beasts Lego, which kept him completely occupied as the bag was lifted and attached to the drip stand. Ben’s nurse that day walked in with a smile that could equate to a ray of sunshine and all of a sudden, James and I fell silent, as we became overwhelmed at the kindness of a stranger and the job that these incredible stemcells were about to do.
We took photos and kissed our son. We blew kisses to our daughters through the window and we all watched and waited quietly.
We watched as the blood began to move slowly down the line and into our boy. The room was silent and Ben was occupied; James and I were simply in awe. Someone we didn’t know, a stranger, just a few weeks before, would have received a phone call that would have changed theirs and ultimately our lives.
That beautiful human being agreed to donate their stemcells to a stranger, an eleven year old boy, in the hope of saving his life.
That beautiful human being afforded Ben and our family of five, ten more months together; something that wouldn’t have been possible without them.
Even in our grief, our gratitude towards this wonderful person, is unending. To us, they are part of our family, for agreeing, for saying yes and for trying to do something incredible for someone they didn’t even know.
The reality is that registering to become a stemcell donor takes a matter of minutes and we signed up with DKMS, as none of us were matches for Ben. A quick swab three times over on your cheeks and then the swabs go back in the post to DKMS. Once that’s done, you are quickly put on the national stemcell / bone marrow register and then you receive a ‘lifesaver’ card.
There is then a chance that one day you might receive a call to say that you are someone’s magical match. I cannot express what a huge relief it is to hear the words ‘we have found a match for your child.’ When you fully understand all that these children have to go through just to have a chance at living a life that most of us take for granted, registering to be a donor is such an easy thing to do.
You can find out more registering to become a stemcell donor and the donation process (in 90% of cases these days, it’s peripheral stemcell donation, which is akin to donating blood) here: www.dkms.org.uk/en
