A NEW LIFE - Day 1

Happy Birthday Kevin!  Those were the words yesterday of our transplant coordinator.  She had previously told us that transplant patients celebrate two birthday's; original birth and their new birth.  Our family will now celebrate May 13th as Kevin's new life day and we will think most about the young man who on this day gave Kevin the gift of life.  In medical terms transplant day is day 0 and today, Saturday is day 1.  So today I start this blog for family, friends, Kevin's co-workers, neighbors and all who love Kevin.

So transplant day and day 1 for me are really good days.  I have a wonderful, peaceful feeling and my heart is so full of gratitude for our donor.  I will probably say "our" and "us" a lot even though it is Kevin going through this process, but what the donor gave was far more than just a gift to Kevin, it was a gift to our entire family. 

But, what you all really want to know is how is Kevin doing.  Kevin is sick, really sick.  Not because of the transplant but because of the three days of chemo that was given to him on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.  Flubardine is the chemo drug that Kevin never hopes to ever see another day of his life.  He had this drug during his last chemo regimen and it makes him horribly sick.  Kevin and I were really concerned about him receiving this drug for 3 days and then knowing that the pattern would be that on Friday, radiation and transplant day, he would be so sick he wouldn't be able to get out of bed.  The doctor told us he would construct a "cocktail" of anti-nausea drugs to prevent this horrible sickness.  We were hopeful, but I know Kevin was hesitant to think he could be so lucky, and he wasn't.  Friday morning Kevin got up and he was sick.  He tried real hard to think he was going to be fine, but all the positive thinking in the world, wouldn't make it go away.  We drove to the hospital with bowl in hand and arrived at 12:30.  Kevin's first question of the nurse attending him was, "Are my stem cells here?  because if their not here, I'm not having radiation."  The nurse replied, "Of course your stem cells are in the city."  Recognizing he was sick, he started off with a drip of anti-nausea medicine and then we went down to radiation for his full body imaging which was to take 30 minutes.  Kevin had on his good face, you have all seen it, and they began radiation.  Kevin has to stand the entire time radiation is given and on minute 27 Kevin indicated that he wasn't doing well.  They stopped radiation, found his blood pressure had sky rocketed and his heart rate dropped significantly.  They immediately put him into a bed to rest.  Which he did for about 30 minutes and then back to finish the last 3 minutes or radiation.  The transplant team upstairs was notified of the delay and Kevin's status and the team notified the Red Cross to hold off on delivering the stem cells until 4:00 p.m.  He was wheel-chaired upstairs where they immediately gave him 2 bags of fluids and time to rest, which he did.  He was horribly sick and trying real hard to simply hang in there while being rather anxious about being well enough to receive the cells.  At this point I don't think there would be any condition that would stop this team from administering the stem cells, they were too hard to get.  In a couple of days when the horrible affects of chemo are gone, I look forward to sharing with Kevin the significance of this day.  He was simply to sick to feel the emotion that I felt.  His emotions could only be about being strong enough to do what he had to do.

Kevin and I sat in a dark room for about 30 minutes and he rested.  At 3:55 p.m. the door opened and in walked a woman wheeling a large box, marked "American Red Cross --  Live Blood Cells".  I watched with great anxiousness to see those stem cells.  She began to unpack the box which was carefully packaged and lifted off a large Styrofoam piece that secured the valued cells, she then removed a large bag which I first wondered if it were the cells, it was only the ice pack that they had been packed with, and finally she brought out a small bag, that looked liked every other bag he has had dripped into him over the past 2 years, only this bag was smaller than anything he had ever received.  It was only filled half full, but inside was filled with rich, red colored cells that looked to me pretty much like blood.  It was a very emotional moment for me, one that I maybe had not expected, but I knew that that bag contained Kevin's new life and recognizing that it had come from a complete stranger that has never met us or doesn't know anything about our family my heart was so full of gratitude.  The science of medicine is remarkable.  Kevin's nurse and the Red Cross employee then checked, double checked and triple checked ID numbers and completed several forms to be certain that these stem cells were going to the right recipient.  At 4:05 p.m. the nurse hooked up the bag to Kevin's central line and it began to drip.  The nurse said, "Kevin this is it, these are your new stem cells."  At that very moment across the hospital intercom the music began to play, it was the music that plays to announce the birth of a new baby.  WOW!  I thought, there is New Life all around me at this very moment.  At 4:30 it was completed.   He had the cells.  This miraculous thing we call our bodies just knows what to do.  Those stem cells know where to go, they flow through the blood and find their way into the bone marrow where they will begin their battle.  The battle between Kevin's current cells and the new cells that we want to take over and become Kevin.  Each of our bodies are unique and don't want to accept anything foreign, but all the medications Kevin is taking is to confuse both his current immune system and the immune system of the donor and allow them to live together until the donor's immune system can take over and Kevin will have the immune system of the donor, one that is free of cancer.  It goes without saying that it was a very spiritual moment for me, one that so many faithful people had prayed and fasted for and so much faith exercised in Kevin's behalf.  It had happened.  Another miracle!

Kevin was still sick.  He rested for another 30 minutes, being watched to ensure that he didn't have any type of reaction to the stem cells.  His vitals were all good and we were able to go home.   Kevin's night at home was pretty long and this morning we made the trip back to the hospital to have his blood checked to make sure the levels of the immunosuppressant  drugs are what they should be.  He managed to get the 15 pills down that he takes each morning at 9:00 a.m. and we just hope they stay right where they are supposed to, and he is resting.  For Kevin, he might call tomorrow his "New Life" day because this ugly pattern of chemo sickness will be so much better by then and he will begin to feel what this transplant means for him. 

So that is Day 0 and Day 1 and they are good days!  Days filled with gratitude for so many "tender mercies" from the Lord that have allowed us to be where we are.  I call this blog "tender mercies" because that is what this 2 year journey has been for me and I know will continue to be.  In April 2005 Elder Bednar said, "I know that He lives and that His tender mercies are available to all of us.  Each of us can have eyes to see clearly and ears to hear distinctly the tender mercies of the Lord as they strengthen and assist us in these latter days.  May our hearts aways be filled with gratitude for His abundant and tender mercies."    I write for 3 reasons.  First, so those who love Kevin most can keep updated on his journey.  Second for myself.  I want to always be grateful and I want to always remember the tender mercies of the Lord so abundantly given to our family.  And third I write for my children and my children's children.  In October 2007 President Eyring told us to" Remember, Remember".  He explained why he wrote and it was because of an experience that he had where he heard these words in his mind, "I'm not giving you these experiences for yourself.  Write them down."  President Eyring reminds us that "forgetting God has been a persistent problem among His children" and "the challenge to remember has always been hardest for those who are blessed abundantly."  Our family has been abundantly blessed by so many around us and I don't want to ever forget nor do I want my posterity to ever forget.  And so I write.