How Someone's Random Act of Kindness Saved My Life

Did you know it’s Random Act of Kindness Week (RAK)?

#rakweek #randomactsofkindness #randomactsofkindnessweek

Oddly enough, it even has a special day which is on Thursday. 

It’s really kind of awful a foundation created a holiday or event to remind us to be kind. But The Random Act of Kindness Foundation was created We should be like that every day! But if it helps encourage people and spread kindness and awareness that can make this world a better place—I’m all for it. 

Let me just say it was the RAK idea that saved my life.   

I’ve never been a resolution-maker or someone who has posted about random acts of kindness before, but I feel like I do little things for people I don’t know a lot just everyday. 

But right now because of this particular week, all I can think about is one thing—how a stranger saved my life through a RAK.

Ya’ll, I have a confession to make.   

I received a letter from my donor… April of last year.

My transplant coordinator brought it to me when I was in the hospital post-transplant. I was shocked when she showed it to me, but surprised because I figured I’d be the first to send one.

Her letter totally brightened my day.

It was short, sweet and to the point. She's a very good writer and I was very impressed with her words. It was like she knew exactly what to write to me.

BAD NEWS: I have yet to write her back—gasp!

"Get on it Cass!"

I know there is really no excuse that could bail me out of this one. I’ve had a lot going on in my life from being diagnosed while pregnant to having a preemie to going through the transplant and all of the other medical crap that has happened, even in the past few months. But I have to write her. I’m going to write her.

If you recall,  I "wrote" her on my blog, but I feel like I need to add more to it. I don't even know what I should say… or what I can legally say because we have to stay anonymous.

cricket, cricket.

See? And I can't say that. She'd think I'm some crazy person or something. I know... I am (kinda cray) but you know what I mean! I mean this woman sounded incredible in her letter. I honestly can't believe it's taken me so long write her back. I feel terrible about it. She probably thinks I'm a bitch.

She told me that her new year’s resolution was to complete a RAK.

My stem cell donor new year’s resolution idea was to sign up the Be The Match Registry at  BetheMatch.org. Who knows? You could be the cure for someone too.

Little did she know, I'd just switched to my AML Oncologist/Specialist and had my first talk with him Christmas Eve. That first day he was already talking about looking for a preliminary matches following the holidays.

Meanwhile, my donor signs up in December or January and orders her cheek swab kit, sending it back in January, and then all of sudden she gets a phone call to come in for more testing.

People have signed up for 10+ years and have never received a phone call. She signed up and a matter or days or weeks later she received a phone call—about me. If she wouldn't have followed through with her random act of kindness that winter, I may of had to go with a 50% match which is much tougher on your body, especially when you aren't related.

Related Post: I Am Having A Stem Cell Transplant

She was a 100% match and agreed to go through the process to donated millions of stem cells, taking off work, staying at the hospital, for me—a complete stranger.

Related Post: The Match

I was in the hospital this year when the ball dropped and I was in the mood to celebrate. Plus, I’ve never been much of a “resolution-maker,” though now, thanks to my donor I definitely will become an avid resolution-maker and celebrate #rakweek by taking a pledge to do something special, random and to hopefully inspire others to do the same.

Thinking about how my donors random act of kindness saved my life and gave me a fighting chance, made me want to write down my resolutions and RAK ideas.

So I made a list of some of my resolutions this year, as you can see below.

So my reader challenge to you is to come up with your own random act of kindness, write it down to make yourself accountable for it, … and follow through with it.

Have you already stopped your original New Year’s Resolutions? Well, here’s a kick in the rear! Create your random act of kindness story! Read other random acts of kindness stories!

I want to hear about your resolutions and RAK’s!

Make sure to comment, like, share, tweet, and be happy and tell me your RAK!.

Pay IT Forward. You never know you could save someone’s life, make a dream come true, or just put a smile on someone’s face for being kind.

  

Don't forget you can also join Bethematch.org. 

Be happy to be alive! PS. DON'T FORGET TO SIGN UP FOR MY AWESOME NEWSLETTER!  IT WILL BE FULL OF EXCLUSIVE GOODIES!

Health, Hospital & Hell

To say 2015 wouldn't allow me to end the year on a good note is the understatement of the century.

As much as I want to blog everyday, something in my life pops up and ruins this writer's plans.

Just a few weeks (now months) back I was back in the hospital for three days with a virus in Nov... #onemorehospitalstayforthebooks

Then post-Christmas, on the 27th, I was admitted again for GI issues.
This hit me like a ton of bricks, ya'll, and I'm still currently having issues--two months later.

Needless to say November and December were insane months for us and January decided to follow suit.

I've literally been in the hospital this entire time I've been not blogging. I've had maybe 10 days or so since December 27 that I've been home; it's February 2.

It all started when we had to cancel Bex's first birthday because of my sinus surgery and then Thanksgiving came--a joyous time of year where we are supposed to give thanks and list all we are thankful for--unfortunately, that wasn't the case this year.

We had family members have strokes, my grandpa had a triple bypass surgery, I got sick, Bex had hand foot and mouth again, then Brody got sick, and even Klay managed to get a bout of what was going around the "White House" this time. It was terrible.

Between the family illnesses and deaths, every time I've wanted to write some other issue would already add to our fully-loaded plate.

It's honestly just been really really tough.

I'm doing as much as I can to try to stay healthy, but I can't help but notice all of the people around me are falling apart too.

I was actually the last one to get sick and had been rather healthy early December. My energy level was the best it had been since my diagnosis and I was hopeful I was on the mend.

And then WHAM! Like a Holly Holm KO kick to the head, all of my excitement about the holidays flew out of my mind and was replaced with worry and fear.

Sickness. Family illness. Deaths. All of them during the holidays this year.

I'm knocked back down again emotionally and physically as I sit here in a hospital bed typing away about how bad 2015 was for us.

And it so far looks like 2016 isn't off to the greatest start, but I'm determined it will be better than 2015! This is going to be a good year. It has to be. We so desperately need it to be.

It's been more than three weeks and people aren't really sure why I'm having GI problems. I have ulcers in my stomach, but tested negative for CDIFF. It was absolutely terrible.

We do know I have an inflamed colon, but we don't know what is causing it so we can treat it.

This lengthy hospitalization was not planned and it's been a struggle to find people to help out. I feel like I'm such a burden when I ask people to do stuff for me. And I know people say I'm not, it's just everyone has their own lives to tend to and don't need the complications of my life sitting on their doorstep with the little bubble that says "help me" next to it.

And this was my first hospital stay from Dec. 27-Jan.14.

Then, I was admitted again less than a week later and finally went home on the Jan. 30th. This time I tested positive for CDIFF, and I fell at the hospital fracturing my sacrum (buttbone, which was already fractured by the way).

Then to top all that off--I started to swell like a balloon and we learned there was a blood clot in my neck connected with my power port or central line, so I had to have surgery to have that removed (the port). Now, I'm on blood thinners, but I still have a lot of fluid in my face.

I mean it was so bad that I didn't even recognize myself.

I just feel bad for everyone around me. Everyone whose life this impacts everyday that's not mine.

I hate that I'm away from the boys. It kills me not to see them everyday.

I honestly feel like the last three months were just a blur. I don't know what to say when people ask how I feel, I'm tired of talking. I feel terrible. I look terrible.

It's made us have to shuffle the boys around, which we hate. I just want to go back to a normal routine again. My mom and Klay have been amazing. I literally don't know what I would do without them. Their lives are the most affected by my illness (along with the kids, of course). If Klay's with me, mom's watching the boys, and if mom is with me, Klay's with the boys. Mom is at my house every day taking care of me and three kids (Swayze, too) and she's done a hell of a job keeping it together. I honestly feel so much more at ease when she is around. There is nothing like being taken care of by your mama. NOTHING. I love you, mom.

Plus, Klay's working and trying to balance this crazy life we're living right now. He's trying to grocery shop, cook dinner, play with the kids, bathe the kids, get them to bed, and work and go to the Reserves and work there. Plus, visit me and stay with me at the hospital, driving back and forth from Dallas to our house everyday. There is just so much he's doing. I feel terrible for him. I just wish I could do something to make everyone's lives a little easier.

I love him so much. And he's been through this all with me (skinny, fat, bald, rashes, broken tailbones, dealing with me shitting myself, bathing me, helping me get dressed--you name it, he's done it.)

Then the poor guy dropped a cage on his foot at work and had to go to the ER last week. It was only a bone bruise, but it just seems like none of us can catch a break.

Right now I'm at the doctor. Yes, I'm out of the hospital, but I'm still swollen, having GI problems, my stomach is killing me, and I'm wearing Depends, which should tell you a lot about how "well" I am right now.

This is my life right now.

I'm 28 and married with two beautiful boys who I don't get to see because of my "recovery" from my stem cell transplant. I'm wearing Depends--so yes, I'm pooping on myself--I'm skinny, my skin is disgustingly dry, my face is blown up because of a damn blood clot in my neck. Oh, and it hurts any time I move my bum because I had to fall and break something while I already feel like shit. I'm going through menopause and I can't have any more kids. My life is quite possibly at the lowest point it's ever been--physically, emotionally, etc. I'm just trying to shake things off, but it's so hard because I keep getting bad news all the time.

I just don't even want to answer questions about anything. I don't want to engage with anyone right now. I know I don't need to shut people out at a time like this. All of these health problems have turned my life and those I love most [their lives] upside down.

Having these GI problems for two months with no resolve is frustrating.

Every day I've been sick with diarrhea, blood in my stool, going to the bathroom every few minutes...

I'm weak, I'm losing weight. I lost eight pounds since December. I'm in the 125s with clothes on. All my clothes are 4x too big for me. I need to get rid of the old and buy some new clothes asap, but don't feel like it cause I'm sick and weak.

I'm way too skinny. It's scary. Though it may not look like it in these photos I'm going to show you. They are gross, but I want people to know what this is like for me and what I've had to experience.

My face is still swollen and swells up really bad in the morning. My right eye is constantly blurry because of the fluid. Hopefully these blood thinners I'm on will help the swelling go down soon. I'm not as big as the last photo. My whole body was full of fluid then.

The only upside to swelling up like a balloon last week was that my jugs were pretty huge for a week. It was like size B to F in 24 hours. Holy Moly they were the biggest they've ever been. It was honestly insane.

But feeling this way about yourself isn't healthy.

I look in the mirror and look at my butt, that's really just skin now. There is no fat to it whatsoever. It's gross. I need my Kim K. curves back with a lot of junk from her trunk while I'm at it.

I was actually happier with my body when I was bigger (pre-AML). At least then I had something to grab. Now, its just skin. There is nothing there and it's pretty depressing.

There is probably a lot of stuff I've left out that's happened since I last wrote, but my brain just isn't all here today or ever, any more.

I just want to apologize to everyone for my lack of posting. We've literally had something happen to us everyday (or just me being sick and tired). And sometimes it's too hard to think about. I just can't even wrap my mind around all of this sometimes. It's a lot to take in.

I know I'm a bucket full of mixed emotions. I literally don't even know what to think or how to feel any more. I just know that I do want to do this--share with you guys. Sharing and knowing that people out there care and want to help does make me feel better.

My goal this year is to grow this blog. I'm working on getting it redesigned and some new things up and going, so I'm hoping that this will help me feel like I'm doing something with my life. I need something to do besides doctor appointments, hospital stays and feeling like poo all the time.

Please continue to pray for us during this very, very difficult time. We need all the prayers we can get!

Also, let's toast (& pray) for a great 2016!

Another Hospitalization for 2015

I haven't written this month, like I promised I would--and I'm sorry about that.

Honestly this month, it's been one thing after another.

Remember how I told you that I would have these days where I'd stand or walk and then I'd see all black?

Well that's what started happening again Halloween weekend. I honestly wore myself out from Halloween--and the stress of getting the kids' costumes ready--so much so, that the next day I was too sore and weak to get out of bed.

All of these fatigue and vision problems fell right before this random Monday where I had to watch the kids alone. Perfect timing, right?

 I was really scared to keep the boys all alone all day with how I felt.

That day, I'd stand up to get something for the kids and I would black out and desperately reach out for the nearest sturdy object so I wouldn't pass out or fall.

Besides the vision issues, I couldn't walk a straight line to save my life. My balance was completely off that when I would try to walk one direction, my body would go in another.

Now these things have happened off and on for a while. But this particular symptom--didn't happen until Monday, Nov. 2--the day I was alone with kids. I starting hearing my heartbeat in my ears.

I spoke to the doctor's office and they said come in immediately, or if it kept happening I'd need to call 911. The problem was I had the kids.

Klay was nearly two hours away working. And all my immediate caregivers happened to be tied up (vacations, picking up kids from school, etc).

Klay made it home about 4 p.m. and we needed to get to the hospital and fast. We arrived at my doctor's office who were waiting for me, because my doctor wanted to check on me personally.

They thought I was having some vertigo issues (where you sit and your BP is fine and then you stand and it drops) making the room spin or get dizzy, which I did have some of.

I'd already had CT scan of both my brain and sinuses the week prior, but they definitely wanted me to stay to do some more testing.

So I was in the hospital the first week of November, and the MRI revealed that my sinuses were terribly blocked and full.

Apparently there was a lot of gunk stuck up there that needed to be sucked out. And if you're grossed out by that sentence, at least you didn't have to have the sinus surgery to remove it. Yes, I said sinus surgery.

I was in pretty bad pain after the surgery. I was hurting so bad and they couldn't keep me comfortable. I had a bitch  rude recovery nurse, who would just ignore me when I spoke or tried to ask questions. I was in recovery for nearly two hours, and I was not happy about it.

Then, they moved my bed out by the nurses' station and I was trying to wave or get my nurse's attention--who was apparently done with me--and then a nurse saw I was about to yak and she handed me a nice blue barf bag. I'd swallowed a lot of blood because of the type of surgery, so you can imagine what was in the bag. Scariest thing ever. Am I dying over here? Scary movie-type shit. 

With me every moment...

Laughable Hospital Moments

That Familiar Place...

When I was first admitted, I was wheeled up to the floor I was going to live, I mean stay in, for however long. It was an oncology floor, of course, so I expected to know a lot of the nurses.

All of the nurses were waving to me as I get wheeled to my room seemingly happy to see me. I waved back as I'm pushed in the wheelchair to my room like a pageant girl in a parade--unknowingly of where I was going. I was focusing on the attention clearly.

Then I hear the nurses holler "aww, you get your old room back!" Yes, the one I stayed in for more than a month.

OMG, I never wanted to see that room again. I'd done my time in that prison. But that's just my luck.

Noticing Things I Should Have Noticed Before

After having stayed in the room for 30+ days in April and staring at the walls of the room for hours on-end, you'd think I would have noticed "it" before. The portrait was there, I remembered starting at it; this I know.

I bet I looked that painting more than a million times, yet I never seemed to notice the penis rock on the left-side of it.

Yeah it's that big rock that looks like a penis. I'm determined the artist did that purposefully or maybe this place really exists. If so, I'm visiting!

I self-titled this portrait, "This Penis Rocks."

My revelation was a hit with the nurses.

When I Thought I Saw...

I was wheeled down to get a MRI, when I see the MRI Tech guy. I'm asking myself 'who does this guy look like?' He was adorable. I finally realized he looked exactly like Morgan (Lenny James) from "The Walking Dead."

I arrived back at my room and squealed to Klay with excitement "guess who I just saw?"

He replied, "Who?"

"Lenny James!" I hollered.

"WHO?" Klay said to me with an I've-never-heard-that-name-in-my-life look.

"Morgan!"

He stared at me.

"Morgan from 'The Walking Dead'. You know that show we watch every Sunday and yesterday's episode was all about him?"

"Ohhhh. That's cool. He's here?"

"No it was a guy that looked exactly like him though."

END SCENE

I guess it's the littlest things that excite you in a hospital.

==

I spent a total of five days in the hospital, but my readers weren't far from my mind.

Y'all, I have eight posts written and saved in my drafts folder that aren't finished yet or need some major editing.

It doesn't help that I need glasses and I'm on drugs--pharmaceutical ones--so literally I've fallen asleep typing--totally face to key board.

I'm trying to get posts out as often as I can without looking like a complete fool, which means I won't publish it unless I think someone else may want to read it.

Since my brain is so clogged up, please feel free to message me or comment and let me know I missed a word, wrote it twice, etc. I need you little editors to help me out there! #writerswithcancerstruggles

Let's just pray that I get through these holiday months with no more hospital stays!

I Just May Have Finally Lost It

Suck

my

ass,

July.



Yes I just said that.
No, it's not pleasant imagery.
But you month of July, yes you, can now sucketh it. (And if you can't tell I miss Game of Thrones because I am Queen of the North moo-hoo-ah-ah-ah).

So WHY am I so harsh on July?
Because it's been nothing but a Bethe (that's pronounced "betch" like the one Ronda Rousey put out in like 36 seconds). So I'm gonna put this Bethe July down and outta my mind because it was just plain awful.

Oh by the way everyone, what up what up what uuuuuupp??

Sorry with all of the naughty language and imagery, but that's why you haven't heard of me in nearly a month--because July might have caused my first gray hair. And, yes, I do have some hair now--and a receding hairline (LIKE WTF!?!)... But we will talk about that later.

I guess you guys are lucky because I'm sitting in bed and I'm in that crazy ass mood where I write like it's nobody's biz-NUSS but mine. See that doesn't make sense but I don't care cause I'm making crazy EFFIN' faces at the computer as I type like I'm talking to the computer because this is a run-on sentence that I just don't want to end to be absolutely ridiculous and so I can continue to make faces like I'm a crazy person.

#ImightsoundlikeIamcrazybutIamjustbeingexpressive #art

I know what you're thinking. That bitch really lost it this time.

I don't know what got into me. It was like I don't feel like writing and I got up and got a drink of water and then it was like Bam! Crazy faces at the computer as I type. #inspiration #ifKlaywalksinhemightsendmetothehospital



OK before I continue, I will tell you some wise, wise words I read on a shirt I saw on Facebook earlier. No I didn't even see this shirt in person, but LORD I need it. #someonebuyitplease

Shit has really sucked lately, hence all of this nonsense cussing/derogatory terms, so if this bothers you then "Buckle up Buttercup, you just flipped my bitch switch." <--- That's what the shirt said. #whycantIeverthinkofsomethingsoclever

Anyway, I thought the shirt was funny.

Well truth is, I don't have a brain any more so that's probably why I'm a little "off". I know what you're thinking "Well, Cass you never had a brain. You were blonde, remember?" (I heard that in one in my head as I typed as one of those mocking voices people do to make fun of each other).

Well hardy, har har.

I did have a brain before (I graduated 6th in my class--and no, there weren't only 7 people in my class or 8 or 9 or 10 so HA!). I was actually book smart. But now, I can barely get out a sentence or remember what I wanted to say, it's got me talking just a lil teeny tiny microscopic bit less. But that's a lot when it comes to Chatty Cathy over here.

So I'm going through some ch ch ch changes.

And that's true in more way than one.

I'm 'kind of' going through a little bit of menopause right now already at the ripe age of 27 because of the sweet, sweet chemo I got pre-stem cell transplant. Chemo, oh how I love thee. #letmespellitoutforyathatwassarcasm

Ok, maybe I liked chemo a little bit cause it killed all of the in my body stuff that was trying to kill me, so I could have someone else's cells put in my body and hopefully be "healthy." I mean it did give me really soft and perky hair like a little baby chick. #Icouldwinthesoftesthairaward

So yeah apparently that's a thing--menopause in my life already. And we all know that can cause things like mood swings, dried up va-jay-jays, hot flashes and irritability, amongst many other things. Ahhh I'm living the life. My husband is so lucky to have me.

Something else that happened in July--Klay was gone for over two weeks.

And no, the menopause thing didn't send him packing, if that's what you were thinking...

He had to go to California for work/training stuff. He's in the USAF Reserves so he had to do some two-week training thing up there and worked the ENTIRE time, including weekends, and never left the base (poor guy).

Then he got back the day before our 8th wedding anniversary (which was on a Monday the 27th, so he had to go back to his normal job/work) only to work another 5 days and then to go back to his normal Reserve schedule his first weekend home in Ft. Worth.

So this is his first weekend off since 1998, I mean like July 11th-ish., which means I have not been to the damn grocery store in nearly four weeks because of several varying reasons and yes, I'm starving and no I haven't felt so great.

And yes, I'm about to list all of the thing that happened this past month, just so you know how much I really hate July.

So put on your big girl/boy pants and just read it. I'll even make it bullet points so you won't ask "when is this girl gonna stop typing?" to shorten it up for you...

• Menopause at 27 #funtimes
• Receding Hair Line -- LIKE OUTTA NO WHERE. I'm just glad I don't have dark hair, but it is super soft.
• Klay's gone for like three weeks. Um, yeah. A lot of chaos scheduling people to take me to the doctor, scheduling new doctor appointments and trying to schedule people to help me to take care of the kids. 
• Sub-bullet: Because he was gone I got up with Bex every night, so I was super sleepless for the most part and weak from the no eating thing.
• I had no food and not much of an appetite so I lost weight. #score
• SUB-sub-bullet: Because I lost weight, I'm now thinking my breasts go every which way but north. I already kind of had that problem, but it's intensified. #fail
• We didn't get to celebrate our anniversary because this is Klay's first weekend free and everyone we know is either at the lake, vacationing, swimming, going to the Circus, Zoo etc, etc. I can't do any of those things cause those can all lead to infections for me so, yay with the summer fun! #notreallybecausesummersucks #especiallyinTexas
• My G-Ma was in the hospital. It was nothing serious and she's fine. But I was a hot mess because of it.
• I had a scheduled day to get my trifusion taken out (the thing in my chest with three tubes that hang out of my chest like I'm growing extra tiny limbs), only to have it canceled. But it did get pulled out last week on a whim because it wasn't working properly. #yes! But I was drugless. #whatashame
• The reason my trifusion removal was canceled was because I broke out in a rash for two weeks (thanks to some oral chemo pills I was on--just for maintenance--we're trying to keep this sexy ass body healthy HA!) that was all over my face, head, chest, and... well... yeah let's just move on to the next bullet.
• Not-So-Fun Fact: When you have really harsh chemo and a stem cell transplant your body grows new everything. New hair (ahem--everywhere-ahem), new skin, new taste buds and oddly enough new nails. Oh what you don't think that's weird? Well by growing these "new nails," my old nails are sitting on top of my of my new nails making it so I can't cut them, and it looks like I have two nails. It's really weird and they get caught on clothes and things because I can't cut them because it will tear into that pink part of the nail, which would hurt like a Bethe. So I haven't done much laundry cause I'm knicking all of my clothes. #ohIhaveplentyofexcusesfornotdoinglaundry
• I can't drive. WHY? Cause I can't see. SO getting on the computer is kind of a pain cause I just get a headache... (part of the reason for my lack of online activity). When I drove a few weeks back, I really couldn't see the signs that well. It was pretty scary. I thought I might have to get someone to drive me home or pick me up or something. But I made it home myself. Now I just need to make an eye doc appointment. #blurryvision Thanks, chemo.
• I have had another breathing treatment and boy did that BLOW. Hahahaha you get it? It really did though. It was terrible. It tasted so bad I thought I was gonna hurl and this is coming from a girl who... yeah I'm going to stop that sentence and just keep you guessing... And then it had this crazy effect on me where I was super jittery for the rest of the day and I was shaking and nauseated and it was just a crappy rest of the day. #breathingtreatmentsblowbigtoes
• I had to make some other doctor appointments to see other experts about my body and all of the things all of this cancer treatment stuff does to you. SO now, I'm booking MORE doctor appointments with different doctors and I still have to go to the oncologist every week. 
• It's effin' hot out here in this Texas July weather and it's only progressively gotten worst since August hit. I go outside for five seconds and I feel like I'm going to fry. Not only because I have super sensitive skin post transplant, but also because it feels like you walked in to a mythological Giant's big schweatty balls. Needless to say it's hot... And now have to start wearing hats cause my scalp burns if I'm in the sun for more than a minute. #myheadfeelslikefire

So this list could really be a list for "27 Ways to Get Your Husband to Find You Unattractive." 

I mean the menopause, the weight-loss, the receding hairline, the blurry vision, the having-to-rely-on- you-for-everything wife, who can't get a tan and might melt if you take her outside...

I mean we seriously need to do a slow clap for Klay here.

Poor guy... that "sickness and in health" thing really did him in.

HA, I'm kidding.
Sorry about that babe. Stop rolling your eyes!

But really though.

I'm already a dried up, pale, can't-see-for-shit ole lady, who can't go anywhere (literally) and whose  only action this past month was with a breathing machine.

Another joke...

But seriously July did suck.

I'm just glad my husband is back so he can make me laugh at all the shitty things we have to go through right now--and so he can cook me dinner.

Lucky to be in love with the guy above,



PS. Finally got a day away. More on that later...

On Pause

I have so many "draft" posts saved in on my blog, it's ridic (p.s. some dictionary folks added that to the dictionary this week, now that's really ridic).

But honestly because I don't feel like computing (LOL) one day so I'll just think "I'll do it later," and the posts just add up.

OR  something else happens medically or to us in our household and I feel like I can never get my head above water to finish a full post for you guys.

Right now, emotionally I feel like I need some purpose--a hobby or a job. I know I can't get a job right now, but I need something to do. Everyone tells me "you need to write a book" and I'm like "about what?"

I just feel useless.

I have no talents--besides birthing cute children--and I know people read this blog, but I need to put time in it and I don't even know where to begin? How do I talk about all that's happened? And what's my angle? I'm sure there are plenty of "cancer books" out there that are probably great reads. But what makes mine different? What makes me and my story so unique?

I'm just struggling with that right now. What to do with my "life"--or right now my "cancer life"--cause it's totally different from normal life.

Will I ever get to a normal life again?

Although this blog gets a lot of attention, I wonder "is because of my sad, cancer story or is it because  I know how to write and they would read cancer or not."

It's hard when I wonder about my future--those "how is it going to end" moments. I need to live and fight for today but it's hard. I have my anxieties and everyone else's on my shoulders about all of this.

Every week is a constant "who is going to help Cass with the kids this week?" Mostly, Actually, ALWAYS it's my mom who stays with me and helps with the kids, but she needs a break.

And then when Klay goes to the Reserves one weekend a month that makes things even harder. Mom's watched the kids at my house with me all week and now she has to help out on the weekends. My sister came and stayed with me one day, all day, but she has kids too and a family she needs to take care of (and my nieces have been sick one week after the next).

The "who's doing what?" game is exhausting. "Who's taking Cass to the hospital? Who's watching the boys? Who's gonna stop and get more formula, more groceries?"

It stresses me out.

So beyond having my head wrapped around when and where and how I'm going to get to my appointments and who's watching the kids... I'm trying to figure out something to do for me.

Because all day, every day in this "cancer-life" I'm wondering about the future. I want to live a life beyond the "C" word. I'm tired of hearing about it and dealing with it.

And it hasn't even been a year yet.

I feel like my life is stagnant--never moving forward.

Sure people tell you, "you will beat this" all the time, but I just don't believe it when they say it. Why? I don't know. I want to. I just kind of look away at the ground and feel awkward. I guess the reason is because no one knows what's going to happen to me. But I have to just believe I will get better.

If I live everyday in fear of what could happen, I'm not really living.

I know this I have two beautiful boys and one handsome husband. And I love them so much.

But all I do is stay cooped up in the house with the kids, of course, and worry. The only time I get out of the house is to go to the doctor. Not exactly living the "good" life.

Ugh.

My life is on pause.
What about having a career?
Or doing something for myself?
I know I have to get better before I can ever think about doing something for me.

Maybe I should get back on my zoloft since I missed a few this weeks cause this post is bumming me out. #oops #depressionmeds

The good thing is, nothing has changed medically. I mean there were a few weeks where I fainted, and I was dizzy a lot and running into walls... I knew the walls were there but I was kind of like "get out of my way, wall" and it didn't move. I was some medicine that was really too much for my system and that's what they think contributed to that. It was pretty scary. I was very unbalanced, couldn't walk a straight line to save my life--not that I could even do that on a good day. My legs, though, they hate me for all of the bumps and falling and whatnot. #bruiseserrywhere

But other than that, I am 100% donor and there are no leukemia blasts in my system, which would mean the transplant is working and I'm cancer free (things could always change).

I'm just hoping it stays that way. I want to get better and be able to do things with my kids (outside of the house). I'm just living a life of fear. I'm scared if I eat the wrong thing, I'll get sick. If I'm around a sick person, I'll get sick. If I go to the store or touch anything in a store, I'll get sick. I don't want to feel like that any more. I just want to live.

One positive note--Orange is the New Black is already on Netflix. I'll binge watch that in two days and then be bored again. LOL.

Today, I'm at the hospital supposed to see the doctor. I found out I have to do these hour-long breathing treatments once a month for a year. And it tastes like shit. FML.

Here's a sneak peek at my next blog--wig shopping or robbing a bank?

Cheers to wearing a small condom on your head,

Nothing Is Ever Smooth

I guess life wouldn't be life if it weren't full of bumpy roads, ups and downs and the unexpected. About a year ago I wrote a post called "The Unexpected" where I announced I was pregnant for the second time.

Now here we are a year later and my baby is six months old (born prematurely at 30 weeks) after discovering I had leukemia while pregnant--talk about unexpected...

I guess I can try to bob-and-weave all life's punches and jabs, but eventually, life is going to strike and it's probably going to be really amazing or really suck when it does. Unfortunately, mine was the latter.

So let's bring this post back to where it should be...nothing is ever smooth in my world. At least not for the past year.

My last post ended with me hoping that I'd leave the hospital that Saturday (after going to check my bloodwork and liver levels), but instead I was admitted; it was only for one night, but it still sucked.

The kids were with my in-laws because Klay was working his scheduled Reserve weekend, so my sister came and took me to the doctor that day. And I was looking forward to some down time to recover from my bone marrow biopsy the day before.

And remember, I can't change I diaper (or I'm not supposed to) so someone has to keep the boys or be here with me all the time.

I did get out of the hospital that Sunday, but I had to go all the way back to Dallas Monday morning to recheck my levels. I stayed at the doctor all day (getting fluids and what not), plus I had a rough Sunday night (no sleep!) getting up and down for stomach probs. #ewww #ouch

So instead of the kids coming home Sunday, they went to my parents' house cause we had such an early appointment the next day and they aren't allowed at the doctor's office.

Anyway that Monday (which was last Monday), I felt like shit.

I could barely walk, my bum was hurting so bad from having to go to the bathroom so much, so I was weak. There were no fluids were left in me; I was dehydrated. The doc wanted to make sure I didn't have GVHD of the gut (which is super serious) so I spent the entire day up there getting meds, fluids and whatever else my body was low on (which was pretty much everything).

They let me go home Monday since I'd just gotten out of the hospital the day before and had an ultrasound on all my remaining organs (ahem, no more gallbladder) so everything looked OK, as long as I stopped going to the bathroom. But I had to go back again the next day so they could recheck my levels again.

On Tuesday, he frequent bathroom trips came to an end. But we still spent a bulk of the day there at the doctor office.

When we got home, we hadn't seen the kids in five days. So, I was beyond ready to be with the kids and even though I felt much better I was still really weak.

We got the kids home and we are playing with them when Bex starts to scream and cry.

Anyone who has been around Beckham hardly hears him cry unless he's hungry, but this was like an "I'm in pain, mommy!" kind of cry. Then we noticed he was chewing on his hands and he started running a low-grade fever (100.3).

I mean I just got my kids back for the first time in five days and my six-month-old is running his first fever and began a long four-hour stretch of nonstop crying.

Of course Klay is super worried if it's something besides teething that was hurting him because I could catch it. And because my immune system sucks, I'm super prone to catching anything and the chances of it being so bad where I need to be hospitalized or it being life-threatening is high.

And I'd just gotten out of the hospital four days ago...

So let's get this straight...the kids' first night back home:

• Bex runs his first fever
• I just gotten over a severe bout of... let's be honest and say the word--diarrhea
• I was just discharged from the hospital for high liver levels and DO NOT want to have to be admitted again for sickness
• Bex is screaming his little lungs out from pain
• I'm two weeks post-gallbladder surgery and not back to normal
• And since we switched back to AT&T U-Verse all of my recordings I missed while at the hospital didn't record because I haven't set them up yet #thankyouJesusforondemand

Not that the last thing matters, I just wanted to throw that out there.

But seriously LIFE, give me a break would you? 

My main concern of course is Bex. Sickness complicates and makes things extremely difficult in every household, but it in ours it's exceptionally tough. My mom has to come over Monday-Thursday and sometimes Friday to help me with my kids because I can't change diapers and I might feel bad or feel weak. She also watches my niece three days a week, with my kids, so that's two toddlers who fight a lot and one baby. She comes over not just so I can rest when I feel bad or make me lunch or dinner (sometimes, I need some more home cooked meals, mom! LOL. JK, kind of) but someone has to watch them so I can go to the doctor.

But no mom ever wants to see their child in pain or sick, including my mom or me, or any parent. But if it happens, I want to be there for them. I've felt helpless because I can't do anything to make it better for Bex, especially because Klay didn't want me touching him "just in case" it was something else besides his teeth.

Anyway, we finally get our little men to sleep and the next day everything is much better...

UNTIL

we notice some spots coming up on Bex's tummy. At first, I thought he had just scratched his tummy but by the next day it has started to spread. It was all over--legs, feet, arms, face. 

First thing I googled was hand, foot and mouth, but it didn't really sound like it. Then I thought maybe it was a teething rash, but those normally don't spread over the whole body. Of course I was hoping it was an allergic reaction to detergent or something like that, but nothing really made sense. 

Two days after his "bad night," he acted fine. He was drinking, eating, sleeping and being the happy boy he always is; most importantly, he had no fever.

He wasn't acting like anything was wrong. 

That Friday, we went back to my doctor. 

My amazing doctor has the most awesome and best assistant ever! I love my Katie!! Anyway, she gave me some news...

My liver numbers went down and are closer to normal! 

And the bone marrow results showed that I'm 100% donor and ZERO leukemia blasts!!! 

That was the best news I've heard in a long, long, long time! 

Now that doesn't mean I'm "cured." It means right now my donor's immune system is fighting mine and so far she's kicking mine's ass, which is great. But it can flip flop and change. It does happen, so I'm trying not to get too excited, but it means that the transplant is working and doing it's job.

So that was amazing news. Klay kept saying "look how happy she is!" talking to Katie. And he grinned from ear to ear and I could see how long it had been since I'd really shown that much happiness and I saw his face and how much me being happy affects his happiness. 

All three of us were thrilled. I needed that news and I think we all knew that after the past several weeks.

Then, we showed them a photo Bex's rash just to see what they'd say about it. My doc was afraid it could be viral and if it is, it could be deadly to me if I were to catch something like that. They warned me to stay away but to take Bex to the pediatrician Saturday morning to see what she says.

My mother-in-law was watching the kids at our house while we went to the doctor and so she ended up taking the boys to her house. Her and Klay took them both to the pediatrician on Saturday.

The result? Brody had started running a fever Friday night and showed spots on his belly too. Bex had some ulcers in his mouth. Conclusion: Hand, Foot and Mouth. 

FML.

So my kids had to go somewhere again, away from mommy and they are sick. There is nothing in the world that would make me ever want to have someone else take care of my children while they are sick. That's my responsibility. They are my babies and when they are sick, they should be with me. It kills me knowing that I'm not the one holding them and comforting them when they feel bad. That's part of being a parent and I can't fulfill my duties because even though I'm 100% donor, my immune system is marathoning it's way back to normal, which to be honest is more like a marathon with turtles trying to get to the finish line.

That was Friday. 

And I felt good earlier on Friday. I had gotten great news, but had to stay to get fluids. Then I took some meds that made me jittery and it made me like a crazy person, so they gave me some anxiety meds to calm me down. I was already only going off of three hours of sleep, and had some nausea med (known to make you sleepy) and I felt like I was gonna barf (not a good combo).

On the way home I fell asleep and then when we got to the house the kids were still there with my MIL. Looking and feeling like a zombie, I slowly made my way to the couch laid down and was out in minutes. I woke up and the kids were gone and it was 1 a.m. Then I took more meds and went back to sleep. 

EFFIN TIRED. 

Slept till like 10 a.m. 

Klay took a photo of me sleeping for y'all to see how "out" I was...

Ha I'm kidding. I'd kill him. OK. Maybe not kill him cause I kinda like the guy, but I'd smack him around a bit or maybe I'd just fart on him. Luckily he kinda likes me too, so he didn't take a photo.  

Now it's Memorial Day weekend and I'm away from my boys, AGAIN. I hate it. I'm supposed to stay away from the kids for five days after Saturday's doctor appointment.

Bro has ulcers in his mouth and so do I. Bex seems to be normal.

I just hope I get to see them soon. I miss them so much. It breaks my heart to feel like I'm not a mother to them. I'm not the one who changes the diapers, cares for them while they are sick, I'm nothing. I'm just called "mom," but I don't feel much like one any more. 

I just want to be with them. That's all I want--to be with them. I want to show them how much mommy cares about them. Instead it seems like I'm selfish cause I'm gone all the time and pulling daddy with me because I'm trying to get better. I'm not really pulling Klay, but it probably feels like that to Brody. And I hate that. I wish I could really make him understand. 

It's sad when he goes to his grandparents because he says "where's mommy? She need to get better?"

He automatically thinks I'm in the hospital. He built a "building" out of legos and said he built me a hospital so I wouldn't have to go.

I mean super sad face. 

And he wants to be home with us. He can say it to us now too. He verbalizes that to us and tells us "to pick him up" and that breaks my heart that we can't. I want him to be here. I want him here at home, but it's not a good idea for either of us. 

Beyond just shitty luck with sickness, hospitalizations, etc., someone side-swiped my new ride while Klay was driving on the highway. It was a hit and run and they sped off an exit before Klay could see anything. And then Klay hit a pothole and now has a knot in his truck tire, so we need to get that fixed too. 

It's one thing after the next, but honestly I don't even care about that stuff. When I found out, I was like "ehh whatever. It sucks. Yeah it was my car but whatever, it's a car." 

And that's how Klay felt the other night about his tire. "It's just something else. I'm used to it now," he said. 

I am too, babe. I am too. 

Plus having a life-threatening illness can put things in perspective for you. LOL. At least it has for us.

I was in bed with Klay last night and our feet were tangled and rubbing each other's and you know what I realized? The only thing that's ever smooth in this world are his feet and Beckham's bo bo. 

But seriously, he has the softest feet. Mine? They are like sand paper. And I thought, "I feel bad for him, I know my rough-ass feet have to hurt his silky-smooth-beautiful man-feet." But he stayed tangled up in mine.

He didn't say anything or crack any jokes about my raggedy feet, which happens on occasion. Instead our feet stayed twisted together and I smiled as I drifted off to sleep thinking I was the luckiest girl in the world.

My life may never be "smooth," but I married the man with the softest feet and he doesn't even care that they are wrapped around my dry, cracked, ratchet heels that might cut his precious toes.

Instead he just brushed his feet against mine, told me he loved me and kissed me goodnight. 

He's the only thing that calms this storm and all that surrounds it; him and his nice ass feet.

So now you know the truth... I'm severely pedicure-deprived, so don't mess with me or my sandpaper heels might cut you.

Jealous of my man's feet,

The Truth

I'm sorry I haven't written in a while.

Between my gallbladder surgery, the transplant and trying to survive life at home, I'm just wiped out and sort of unmotivated.

Everytime I tried to write a blog, I just felt uninspired and closed my computer because I was writing literal shit. It was terrible.

In all honesty, for the past five months we've thought nothing about this stem cell transplant. I've been holding my own I think pretty good until now.

It was kind of like I kept repeating to myself over and over, "we just have to get to the transplant, we have to get to the transplant..."

That was me trying to take things one day at a time.

I didn't want to think too much about the transplant process, because I didn't want to be away from my babies that long. The doctors and staff said they'd make arrangements and exceptions for me given my circumstances. But I never asked what they meant by it or how many times I'd actually get to see them.

And emotionally, it was very difficult seeing them. My mind wasn't right. I just couldn't shake this "hospital-funk" that had me all in a tizzy.

I've made friends with a lot of the nurses, which is easy to do because you're around them for so long.  Except for those times I was in a lot of pain and they probably thought I was the patient from hell.

And even when you're walking the halls you see patients one day, and the next you don't. You hear about one passing on who never got to the transplant stage or learn of one I was supposed to meet, because we were around the same age, went home post-trans and got an infection that cost her her life.

That's why it's so serious that I be extremely cautious right now. It's not just my immune system being low, but I'm taking medication that also suppresses the immune system. There are so many lists of things I can't do or be around...

--People mowing their lawns
--People digging in the dirt or planting plants
--I can't dig in the dirt or flower bed
--No fresh flowers
--No cats or kitty litter
--No vegetables that are hard to wash unless we wash & steam them ourselves
--No changing diapers
--No cleaning up dog fluids
--No dusting or cleaning the house
--No one who has a runny nose or shows any signs/symptoms of sickness

Among many other things...

It's exhausting thinking about it.

And frustrated when I look at my house and want to swiffer my floors, because I see all the dust and hair floating around.

I guess the truth is I'm scared.

I'm afraid of getting sick and going back into the hospital. Unfortunately, it will probably happen again at some point--I hope not--but it probably will; I'm just trying to be realistic.

It's very scary.

I'm afraid of a lot right now.

I'm showing some signs of GVHD, which is a good thing. They want that a little. But my face is darkening and becoming more red with bumps on it, so everyday I look in the mirror afraid it's going to be worse. I'm itching all over now and have darkening of the skin in a lot of other places (which they say is the chemo I had prior to the transplant). And my eyes are getting worse, just more blurry and having trouble seeing things far off. But I've got dry eyes, no eyelashes and pretty much my left eyebrow is a goner.

I look like the cancer patient from hell.

I'm hideous.

If it gets really bad (the skin) that could mean another hospitalization. But most likely I'll start oral steroids first. Which the side effects of that include, mood swings, messes with my bones, weight gain, etc.

No, I don't want weight gain, I don't want any more issues with any thing in my body and I already have enough mood swings for a lifetime in one day.

And then, on Friday, I had another bone marrow biopsy. Whoopee.

Don't get all worried; it's standard to have one so many weeks post transplant. It hurt but it wasn't too bad.

The hardest thing we've had to deal with is trying to balance our home life. I can't drive myself to the doctor, plus Klay doesn't want me to drive or go to the doc alone. It's hard because someone has to watch the kids while we go to the doctor (no kids are allowed at the doctor under age 14) and then someone has to drive me to the doctor. And someone needs to be here with me at home to help with the kids cause I'm tired and can't change diapers.

I guess that brings up a lot of issues for me emotionally. I can't do anything to help. Everyone is busy and I get that, but we got a cancer sitch over here and I hate to say it--we need help. Klay's doing everything pretty much by himself--cooks, cleans, bathes the kids, changes ever diaper, gets up with Bex in the middle of the night (sometimes I get up too so I can feed him--that is the one thing I can do).

He works, he goes to school, comes home and then he is the mommy and the daddy.

This Mother's Day was a hard one for me. I just feel there is more distance now between me and my kids. I'm not the one taking care of them everyday, playing and changing diapers and that's hard for me. I know I need to get healthy so I can go back to the way things were.

But it's not just that. My energy is low and I get tired so fast. I can't cook, clean or take care of the kids. So if I'm not a wife and a mother than who am I?

I don't have a job and with everything else I don't feel like I'm contributing anything to anyone. I'm quieter more now than I've ever been in my life. There isn't much that keeps me talking.

I feel like I'm here, but I'm not here.

This is just how I feel. I can't help how I feel.

There are a lot of people going through much worse than me. I know that.

I'm just over all of this. I am over the appointments. I'm afraid of so much--of something coming back, of experiencing pain like I did with my gallbladder, of losing my mind, of not being close with my kids.

And the whole "mind" thing is a real deal. I can't remember if I take my medicine sometimes, I can barely comprehend what people are saying sometimes (I don't know if this is because I'm too tired to talk or what?), and I've been having trouble with my balance.

I ran into Bex's pack n play, which he was in, in the middle of the night and then into the wall two seconds later... having no sense of direction. It was ridiculous.

Klay sprung out of bed and asked "Cass, Cass what's going on? Are you OK?"

And he walked me back to bed after I got a drink of water and some medicine.

Who knows? It could be chemo brain or these drugs I'm on. It's probably both.

I had something else I was gonna say but now I can't remember...

..............

..............

..............

Ugh, Fuck it.

--THE NEXT DAY--

On the upside, I am at home and not in the hospital. (Actually right now I'm at the hospital on this Saturday to run labs and make sure my liver numbers look good. Crossing my fingers!)

But since I've been staying home, I am spending time with the kids, which I love. Bex is trying to talk and laugh. It's so sweet and that boy does have the biggest smile. He has started teething so he's become a bit of a ham and he gets a little whiny from time to time, but those are the stages these little ones go through...

Brody is bouncing off the walls so happy that mama and daddy are home. He is so smart and talks SO  SO SO much. I don't know where he gets it from... LOL. He loves being a big brother, and he's very dramatic (I don't know where he gets that from either). Them two like this is a rarity.

They bring joy to my life but it also makes me sad to know they don't get mama's normal interaction as they would if I didn't have this cancer stuff.

I want life to be normal again. Simple. I know it's going to be a long time before that happens, and I have to stay strong and stay motivated to get up and move around.

Today I've actually felt somewhat better than have in over a week, so I'm hoping that's a good sign.

So please my dearest liver, don't EFF with me today.
I don't want to be here at the hospital again.

I'm kinda in a good mood, my spirits are a little better today and I'll take that any day of the week.

Tired but better today,

Miserable Days

You know, people always said that my mouth would get me into trouble.

Well, this time they were right. I've had enough of my mouth's BS.

Mouth, you're killing me.

I'm sure you're wondering, WTF is she talking about now? OK, so here it goes.

------

Painful--that's the word I would use to describe the past three days.

I've not been able to eat anything the past two days. The day before that I barely had a few sips of a smoothie and that was it.

I've thrown up multiple times and why?

Mucuscitis.

I have these sores that developed in my mouth, on my tongue and in my esophagus.#mouthsoresarenotjustforwhores
I'm just kidding.

It's terrible. I couldn't swallow any pills yesterday, so they converted the ones they could convert into IV.

But the ones that they had me attempt to take,  I would just throw back up with some lovely blood and mucus.

By last night, I took one sip of water because I was so thirsty I couldn't stand it. I managed to get it down but 30 minutes later I became super nauseated and puked in a bucket while on the bed (can't sit on the floor or they will label it a "fall"). And while I was throwing up I started having these lower back spasms. I hollered from how excruciating it was. The back spasms are from my bone marrow trying to spit out new cells.

This one was so bad, I threw up blood and bile.
And all that I was spitting up earlier that day was blood. That's it. It was horrible.

Meanwhile I have these sores in my throat, on my tongue and the sides of my mouth, and even down my esophagus.

These past few days have been exceptionally brutal. I've never felt pain like this. It's not like my mouth is sore, it's more like thorns in my throat and every time I swallow they just hit each other and try to send my food, pills or whatever back up.

I also couldn't talk much (or where people could understand me) because I have all of this extra saliva because I'm not swallowing because of the pain. This created an equally frustrating problem for me since no one could understand me, I had to repeat myself over and over again. Fun fact: my biggest pet peeve is repeating myself. I get super annoyed super fast.

I've literally felt like I'm in a horror film--some nastier version "The Exorcist" puking and spitting blood and other grossness everywhere.

I wish there was some way to describe it to you--the pain--but there honestly isn't. It feels like my throat closes or is closed more on one side and won't allow anything down and the pain is just reminding me to "stop trying to eat or drink."

But my stomach is all, "F U throat, I'm hungry."

My body is a bitch. What a P in the A (pain in the ass, for those of you who don't know that expression).

Beyond that, Klay was gone this weekend to the Reserves so it's been difficult not having him around. I'm just tired and exhausted, and I'm actually wanting to feel better or when I do, something happens and I start puking again.

I did just eat some soup, bread, and mashed potatoes and that seemed to go down ok (so far). It's just today has been one of those days I can't keep my eyes open. Between all of the meds they've given me (and they are strong) my head just doses to the side trying to get me to sleep. Then between these mini 20-30 min naps, I have crazy ass dreams and I wake up talking to people in the room who aren't there. And it's really embarrassing when a nurse is there and you say something about a dog and they are like "they let you bring a dog up here?" "Oh, no I'm sorry I was dreaming."

I am an EFFIN mess.

The Doc told me that if I didn't have all this throat mess going on, I'd probably be going home Tuesday (tomorrow). But he's still looking at me hoping I will be getting out of here by Thursday or Friday. I can't believe that. I'm just hoping my throat gets better. That's all I want is my throat to get better.

Plus, Brody is really starting to miss mommy and daddy. It just breaks my heart when he says he wants us to come pick him up. I'm so ready to be with my boys again. I mean who could resist this adorableness?

Those two faces make everything better. I just adore them. I'm so ready for this hospital stay to be done and behind me. It probably won't be my last stay, but let's hope it will be for a long time.


Feeling Mouthy,

Letter Series Vol. 2 // A Letter To My Donor

Writing a letter to someone you don't know and thanking them for something of this magnitude is a hard task to tackle.

I think I've written a letter to someone I didn't know before. It was probably many years ago and in grade school a few times--a member of our military, a child overseas, etc--a designated pen-pal, if you will.

You probably remember those. The one thing I do know about you is you're around my age, so I'm assuming you remember handwritten letters and good ole snail mail. And after all of this time, of all of the countless letters I've written, if I could choose one to be handwritten, it would be this one.

Maybe eventually I can send you one through the donor registry, but until then I have a lot of work to do... so I guess I should focus there first.

But a day doesn't go by that I wonder who you are and what you're like.

Is she from the US?
Does she live in Germany?
Does she have kids?
What kinds of hobbies she like to do?
Does she want to meet me?
What did she think when she got a phone call saying she was a match?
Why did she decide to become a part of the registry?

I have so many questions and thoughts running through my brain about the kind of person you are.

But now that I've gone through with the transplant and parts of who you are becoming part of me, I wanted to write and really try to explain my thoughts, feelings and gratitude.

I've never dreamt I'd write a letter to you--whoever you are--and say the following, but here it goes:

Thank you for giving me a chance, a chance to live a longer life with my family and friends. 

Thank you for giving me an opportunity to make a difference in their lives. 

Thank you for saving me from being released from the gravity of this Earth too soon. 

Thank you for giving me something that is rightfully yours that was internally and scientifically made for you for your body, and sharing it with me to give me a chance to live longer.

Thank you for giving me hope. 

Thank you for giving my family hope and some peace of mind.

Thank you for taking the time to fill out the registry. Who would have ever thought that there are two people essentially made up of the same DNA--blood or whatever inside--and we've never even met? 

Thank you for taking time out of your life to do this for someone you don't know. It shows how unselfish and thoughtful you are.

Thank you for not passing up this opportunity to save someone's life. I hope that you will want to meet me one day, as I'd love to meet you.

Please never feel guilty if you never want to be contacted. I couldn't imagine giving something from your body--some of your anatomy--to save a stranger's life and finding out it didn't work. 

If that happens (it won't) but if it did, it's not your fault. You tried. You just happened to be the lucky person to have to the inside-goodies to match mine.

And that's what matters; you found that out and you've followed through donating your stem cells and  given me a fighting chance at life. There is nothing more I can ask for than that, truly.

Some people battling this disease don't even make it this far; they never make it into remission. I did it in one try. It seems like I'm supposed to go through this, right? Maybe we are supposed to meet and this is just the way we have to do it. 

Who knows what God has in store for us? 

What I do know is that I could NEVER express my gratitude for your act of kindness. I just wish there was someway I could give back or give back to the community for your act of selflessness. 

I wish I knew what I could do or what to say to you, but the truth is I don't. I don't know what to say. 

I'm sorry for that. 

The magnitude of the possibility of what you're giving me is far too large for a few words on a tiny screen. I wish I could do more. I wish I could say more. I've honestly never been so at a loss for words in my life. And to the people who know that personally have never witnessed that in my 27 years of life. I'm a talker;  I like to talk.

But I truly don't know what to say.

And maybe it's better not to say too much in this case. The simplest "thank you" may be the best. 

Thank you for giving me some more light at the end of my life. Whether it's one minute, one year, two years, ten, twenty or fifty, thank you to you, my donor, whoever and whereever you are.

I will cherish every bit of it and bask in the rays of light. 

Forever grateful & warm,