On My Soapbox For a Moment

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For the past year and a half I have been volunteering once a week at Denver's Children's Hospital in the oncology unit playroom.  I play with patients of all ages and try and help them remember that they are, first and foremost, kids.  In my time volunteering, there have been some hard moments, the pediatric intensive care unit I was sent to once was a sight I think no parent could handle well.  Standing in the room of an 18 year old patient who reminded me so, so much of my sister and who I was acting as a witness for her signing "do not resuscitate" paperwork had me feeling for a moment like I couldn't breathe. 

This weekend brought another hard moment.  On Sunday, I learned that a favorite patient of the entire unit, one who has been in that playroom practically every week for the past year, one who I have held on my lap countless times and who is the best little hugger around, lost her battle with her illness.  Since then, I have been feeling sad and pissed at cancer and pissed at a universe where not all children get to become adults.

I can't tell you how much I wish I could make cancer go away.  I can't do that but one thing I can do is encourage any of you reading to help in a way that we all can, sign up to be a bone marrow donor.  I put myself on the registry years ago and last year, after hearing about a completely charming, cape wearing patient in desperate need of a bone marrow transplant, Kevin signed up as well. 

It is a simple thing.  You go here and they send you a kit in the mail.  You swab your cheek and mail it back.  Done.  Easy and you could extend or save someones life.  One popular misconception I want to clear up about donation is that if you are called to donate that you have to endure something painful.  That used to be somewhat true; however, nowadays if you are a match almost 90% of the time there is no bone marrow taken out of your hip.  Instead, they hook you up to this handy dandy machine that takes your blood, spins it extracting the needed parts, and puts the rest back in you.  You go home the same day and you may have a headache but that is it. 

So, if you knew and loved my sister, please consider signing up.  If you love anyone with cancer, please consider signing up.  If the thought of a pink slipper wearing, huggy 3 year old being gone from the world bothers you, please consider signing up.  It would mean the world to me.