Mon the 13th of Jul – A very Special Day

The 13th of July is a very special Day. It marks 2 significant events. A Birth and a Rebirth. It welcomes into this world little Micah Sebastian de Haas, the baby boy of my dearest friend Cynthia. And on this day, Mara receives her very first batch of her father’s stem cells. A very special Day indeed.

Last Friday Dad started with his two daily injections to stimulate the production of stem cells in his blood. The level of discomfort for donors can range from dizziness to headaches, stomach aches, backaches, mood swings and in some severe cases to ruptured spleens. The doctor looks at me and says: “make sure your father rests as much as possible”. Mom and I watch over him like hawks although so far, it’s not necessary. He’s doing such a terrific job! Mara texted him in the morning: “Can’t wait for your batch of stem cells”. Dad’s response: “next batch is already in production!” According to the doctors, his harvest is plentiful. He’s ripe for the plucking! In the mornings, Dad must sit still for 3 hours with one fat needle in each arm while his stem cells are collected through blood dialysis. Mara receives them intravenously in the evenings. By Tuesday night we’ll know if and how much more she needs.

I regularly ask Dad how he feels. With each passing day, his answers become more original. I selected my top 5 favorites:
1. “I feel knocked out like a Looney tune crashing into a wall and little colorful birds fly in circles over my head”
2. “I have so many holes in me that when I drink, I’m afraid water will pour out of me like a sift”
3. Dad: “Do you know the joke: How do porcupines make love?”
Paula: “Very carefully?”
Dad: “Exactly. That’s how I feel with everything I do”
4. Dad: “My lower back is pounding. As if someone were playing drums on my butt.”
Paula: “Oh Dad, you have a drumming ass?”
5. The nurse asks:"How do you feel?"
Dad: "Like I've been smoking up"
Nurse:"Lucky you. Some people have to pay for that feeling"

Meanwhile, on Sunday, Mar was high as a kite. She was finally given a sedative. She was in so much discomfort - her entire body aching, her muscles cramped, her throat and stomach burning, her gums irritated, her vision blurred, her ears sore, her nausea back – that she gave in. She resisted the nurses’ enticing offers to administer pain killers for the last 2 days because she didn’t want to trick her body into a false sense of wellbeing only to feel the pain twice as acutely once the drug wore off. While I respect her reasoning, I can’t help thinking how different my own would’ve been. I’d have demanded to be drugged with a wake up call in 1 month time.

A couple of hours earlier, Mara was seething with anger. Might it have been the fifth “Paul, I’m so angry!” that tipped me off? I think she’s now running on her last reserves and her pain threshold is low. After the umpteenth visit to the bathroom, her fragile frame heavily leans against the drip. Her hands turn into fists and she says she wants to rip the catheter out of her chest, she wants to throw things. The phone in the room looks dangerously inviting. She wants to scream. All I can do is listen and hold her and when she finally crawls into bed, I gently rub her back, her arms and her legs.

Within 10 minutes, the drug kicks in. Her pain wasn’t severe enough to get morphine but whatever was administered definitely contained some endorphin releasing substance Almost instantly, I see a miraculous shift in my sister. From a contorted with pain Mara, all of a sudden, she turns into a very relaxed version of herself. There’s a dreamy look on her face, her big blue eyes are glazy, distant and she’s smiling. The pain is gone. She knows it’s still there but she doesn’t feel it anymore. “Paul, I feel wonderful. Tell me more about our trip to Bali.” Another 10 minutes later and she's completely knocked out.

Mar is going through a very rough patch but the finish line is in sight. The final stretch is the toughest one. I know my sister. She'll be kicking and screaming all the way to the end of this marathon and she will triumph. We’re all rooting for her and cheering her on for the last bit of rocky road ahead.