Donating bone marrow / personal experience report by Markus Urban
To encourage as many people as possible to take part in a donor programme, I would like to take this opportunity to describe my personal experience as a bone marrow donor with the DKMS (German Bone Marrow Donor Register).
As you can see on the internet site www.dkms.de, the DKMS keeps a register of all potential bone marrow donors in the country. When someone is diagnosed with cancer of the bone marrow, the DKMS compares data and then sets out to find the proverbial needle in a haystack. Only someone who is the patient's genetic twin, as it were, can donate bone marrow cells and thereby help save the person's life.
At one time, I didn't think donating organs was a big deal. I now know that it's all about saving a life, giving someone the gift of a new life. With a little courage and professional help, you, dear reader, could help save someone's life too!
This is my story:
One day, while my wife (I love you, darling) and I were taking the dog for a walk along the River Neckar, we approached a group of people having a party, a typical Swabian "Hocketse". Just the thing, I thought. I'll have a nice cool beer. That was three years ago. This party had been organised to try and find a donor for a 6-year-old child who was suffering from leukaemia. I am not going to go into the details of this insidious disease and its many sub-diseases. The DKMS site provides extensive information on this. Around 3,500 people volunteered for testing, were tissue-typed and included in the register of potential donors. My wife weighs less than 50 kilos so unfortunately did not qualify. But my name was included in the files. The procedure costs the DKMS a lot of money, so the organisation needs all the financial support it can get.
It turned out that I was not a suitable donor for the 6-year-old girl, and unfortunately, nor were the other 3,499 volunteers. But two months later, a match was found and I very much hope that the girl is now leading a happy and healthy life. Her parents have undoubtedly had a very difficult time.
A year later (by which time I had almost forgotten the entire episode), I received a letter informing me that I had been identified as a preliminary match for another patient. I was asked to undergo a thorough medical examination. As I know now, this does not automatically mean you are a suitable donor, merely that you have fulfilled the initial criteria. I said I was willing to have the tests and subsequently received tickets from the DKMS to fly to Dresden. At the university clinic there, I was examined by extremely friendly doctors who explained to me the entire procedure once again and outlined possible risks. This took one day.
The risk: by stimulating cell division in the donor's bone marrow, the donor produces a higher concentration of bone marrow cells in his blood. These blood stem cells are filtered out (producing a yellowish substance) and transplanted into the patient's bone marrow. For the donor, this involves a risk of developing cancer wherever there is a higher incidence of cells. But this is even more unlikely than winning a lottery jackpot (and I don't play lotto anyway).
Then there was the moral issue: Mr. Urban, when all questions have been answered (and that was the case) and we determine that you are a suitable donor (and that was also the case), are you prepared to go through with it or not? At this point, I don't think it's a problem if a potential donor says no, I'd rather not. But those who say "yes" can save lives! And that's when I decided I didn't care about the risk – I was going to help someone survive! When are you ever going to get another chance to be a human without thinking about material advantages? So I agreed.
5 days before the donation, I had to inject myself every day with a solution to stimulate bone marrow cell production. (This can also be carried out by a general practitioner.) My trick was to face a mirror and imagine I was standing on a platform in front of 1000 people where I had to be very quiet. The little prick didn't bother me. It really is harmless. And those who can't face it can always go to their GP.
On the last day, I admit I had severe pains in my pelvis, as if I could feel the cells detaching themselves from my bones and swimming around in my blood. But this can be controlled by painkillers.
On Day X, everything was perfectly organised: return flight tickets Stuttgart-Dresden, hotel vouchers for the night from Monday/Tuesday, taxi fares and expenses would be reimbursed later.
But air-traffic controllers were on strike and numerous flights were cancelled, including mine to Dresden. At the check-in desk, businessmen were outraged (don't any normal people fly to Dresden?) – they all had such important appointments and were demanding compensation that would have caused Lufthansa to go bankrupt. I thought: if they can shout, so can I. So I yelled at everyone to be quiet, and explained in no uncertain terms that the only person who really had to fly to Dresden that day was me! Business deals could wait until tomorrow, a bone marrow transplant could not – the patient was already in the operating theatre.
The gentlemen were dumbstruck: saving lives was indeed more important than a business appointment. Lufthansa reacted brilliantly and got me on the next flight to Frankfurt where I was whisked through the terminal to catch a connecting flight to Dresden.
During the donation, I had to sit on a kind of highchair where I watched videos (latest cinema hits) for four hours and was provided with plenty of food and drink. Blood flowed from my right arm into a machine, which filtered out the cells, and was then pumped back into my left arm. After a while, my backside began to go numb… When the procedure was over, I was told I might have to return again the next morning if there weren't enough cells. I was asked to stay in Dresden for another day.
I later visited a delightful restaurant in a refurbished villa near Dresden's Blaue Wunder bridge, and dined on delicious duck breast. I then took a taxi to the observation platform where I enjoyed a wonderful view of this beautiful and fascinating city. The solidarity tax contributions have certainly been well-invested in Dresden. A comforting thought.
My hotel was good, but maybe next time I should find private accommodation (it's in the blood!). I returned to the clinic the next day but was told I was no longer needed. My flight wasn't until the evening, so I took the opportunity to wander through the city and enjoy life.
After donating bone marrow, you feel really very elated. You don't know who the recipient is. Donors and patients don't have the chance to meet until two years later – if both agree. So I contemplated Dresden, a city that has been through so much, a city that was reduced to ruins but has risen up again out of the ashes – just like the recipient of my cells …
I was so happy to have helped somebody that I wished I had built the Frauenkirche all on my own. I flew back to Stuttgart and found a surprise awaiting me: a food hamper, a bouquet of flowers and a thank-you note. DKMS certainly know how to turn the tear taps on. It wasn't necessary, but thank-you anyway.
My genetic twin – all I know is that he comes from Hanover, is 48 years old and has 2 children – was able to go home again after week! Excellent news! He has had no relapses so far and I am sure he is delighted with his second chance at life!
So what are you waiting for? Register with the DKMS. It all starts with a small prick – and Dresden is well worth a visit!
For more information see the DKMS internet site. The best thing would be if the entire country registered. So that leukaemia is wiped out once and for all!
Markus Urban and family