I have a friend. Her name is Crystal.
Crystal has a son. His name is Jack. He’s five.
Jack has a bully. A very mean one.
Only this bully isn’t at school or in the neighborhood.
We’re telling Jack that it’s ok to fight back against a bully. He can hit, punch, kick, bite… whatever.
Jack’s bully is leukemia.
Jack was diagnosed yesterday, and it was confirmed today, with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Luckily this is a very highly treatable type of leukemia and has a very good success rate.
You can follow along with Jack’s treatment on their CaringBridge page. If you’d like to send him an email or e-card, you can do that at email@example.com.
They likely have a long, tough road in front of them so any prayers, positive thoughts and whatever will be appreciated.
Here’s where I tell you a story.
On Thursday on Facebook, I posted a story about a woman in Macon who met her marrow donor. They had both contacted each other after their information was released (12 months post-transplant). Their story is actually pretty amazing. Here’s what I posted:
So then I go to tweet about how frustrated I get when I get a Be The Match email. I always think it’s going to be “THE EMAIL” saying that it’s time for me to go and donate for someone.
I long to get that call. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it once a month at least. I got super jealous when my friend Jana said that she’d had the honor of being a donor about a decade ago. I want to do this. I want to help somebody in this way.
And then the next morning (Friday), I wake up and open my email. This is what I tweeted after:
Yes, I got a Be The Match email saying I should update my information and congratulations for being on the registry for 5 years. First of all, I can’t believe it’s been five years since I helped with a Bone Marrow registration at Fort Valley State in honor of a young man waiting for a transplant.
On Friday afternoon I was chatting with my friend Crystal. She was concerned about her son and had an appointment to take him to the doctor that afternoon. His symptoms sounded strange to me and gave me flutters in my stomach. We talked about mono and growing pains and stuff, but my tummy wasn’t settled. Later that night, the word Leukemia was used.
My heart broke.
Today that was confirmed. ALL. One of the “good” kinds to get.
But a childhood has been tarnished. Jack’s little life will be forever changed.
It’s time to rally around them. It’s time to take a minute and get on the donor registry. It’s free this month, thanks to American Express. All you have to do is go here and give some information and they’ll send you a swab kit. It can’t get easier.
Do it for Jack. Do it to kick his bully in the ass.
Do it for the thousands of people waiting for a match.
Do it because giving a little of yourself will save another person’s life.