(the following is from an unpublished article I submitted to Campus Cross Walk in August, and never heard back - might as well post it here!)
(Last summer) I had the opportunity to donate blood marrow stem-cells to a leukemia patient whose name I do not know and whose life situation I haven’t a clue—except for the fact that this guy was 52 years old, had leukemia, and would probably meet his maker by this time next year unless they found a donor match. I have no idea if he has a family, I have no idea where he lives, I don’t know if he’s Christian, Muslim, Jewish, whatever—and I certainly don’t know if he’s led a good life. All I know is that I agreed to be a donor 8 years ago at a special screening at my church, and that’s about that.
The process involved multiple blood draws, multiple medical questionnaires, an x-ray, a full physical, and 5 days of two injections in my belly of a medicine that can best be described as “bone marrow steroids.” It culminated with a 5 hour draw to collect the marrow stem-cells from my blood.
Somewhere right now a guy I don’t know has my exact immune system pumping out of his (my) bone marrow, swimming around in his veins, getting used to their new home. He’s certainly not out of the woods yet, for there is an incredibly long recovery period. If he ever decides to contact me, they do not allow him to do so for an entire year –by then, if all is successful, he will have licked his leukemia and more time will have been added to his game clock.
Question: Does this make me a “Hero”?
In sharing my story it is certainly not my intention to call attention to myself, but it begs a great question which I cannot pass up—which, incidentally, leads to another great question:
What is the definition of a “Hero”?
Which leads to an even greater question:
What qualifies one as a “Hero” of Faith?
(Last summer) I had the opportunity to donate blood marrow stem-cells to a leukemia patient whose name I do not know and whose life situation I haven’t a clue—except for the fact that this guy was 52 years old, had leukemia, and would probably meet his maker by this time next year unless they found a donor match. I have no idea if he has a family, I have no idea where he lives, I don’t know if he’s Christian, Muslim, Jewish, whatever—and I certainly don’t know if he’s led a good life. All I know is that I agreed to be a donor 8 years ago at a special screening at my church, and that’s about that.
The process involved multiple blood draws, multiple medical questionnaires, an x-ray, a full physical, and 5 days of two injections in my belly of a medicine that can best be described as “bone marrow steroids.” It culminated with a 5 hour draw to collect the marrow stem-cells from my blood.
Somewhere right now a guy I don’t know has my exact immune system pumping out of his (my) bone marrow, swimming around in his veins, getting used to their new home. He’s certainly not out of the woods yet, for there is an incredibly long recovery period. If he ever decides to contact me, they do not allow him to do so for an entire year –by then, if all is successful, he will have licked his leukemia and more time will have been added to his game clock.
Question: Does this make me a “Hero”?
In sharing my story it is certainly not my intention to call attention to myself, but it begs a great question which I cannot pass up—which, incidentally, leads to another great question:
What is the definition of a “Hero”?
Which leads to an even greater question:
What qualifies one as a “Hero” of Faith?
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