Since Saturday morning, I've had a pretty sick bear on my hands. That's right, P. is wounded. If I had to guess what he felt like right at this moment, I'd guess a little something like this-
I don't think Friday night's shenanigans helped P.'s well-being either.
See these mattresses? Those belong to Denny and I. Denny's had to go 2 hours away, and mine had to go 3 hours away. P. and I weren't ready to go until 9pm, which means we didn't get to bed until 2:30am, resulting in a tired, grumpy, and sometimes unreasonable Yelena.
Thankfully, aside from his work exhaustion, P. was feeling pretty well Friday night. He let me complain, be tired, and say things that don't make any sense. He's pretty great like that. But when Saturday morning left P. feeling a little less chipper than usual, I naturally entered Mama Wolf mode making sure P. is okay and doing everything in my power to make him feel even a tiny bit better. But being the Bear that he is, P. retreated quietly to avoid worrying those around him. He didn't complain, he continued to smile, and he carried on conversations with his usual enthusiasm. But even though he really tried, he couldn't fool me. I've looked into those eyes too many times not to notice the suffering. That sheer moment of panic when his ribs tightened up and he couldn't breathe, or the minuscule wince when his joints locked up making it difficult to move; I noticed them all. And what kills me is that there is absolutely nothing I can do to make him feel better. In fact, in the next few days it will only get worse.
Why?
Because P. is donating his stem cells to a woman with fourth stage leukemia. And in order to do that, P. is getting shots that force his body to overproduce stem cells and release them into the blood stream. And because stem cells are produced by the bone marrow, which is found in the bones, every joint in his body is achy. Excruciatingly achy. So I have to watch P. suffer knowing that it's only going to get worse and completely incapable of taking any of the pain away. Let me tell you, that is one horrible feeling.
Let's talk about these shots for a minute. P. gets two shots every day (he started on Saturday), and they are responsible for stimulating the activity of the bone marrow. Now, because P.'s schedule is so hectic it's been a little bit of a challenge trying to coordinate times, locations, etc. with the nurses. Thankfully, the medical team is unbelievably understanding and the nurses are willing to make it work regardless of the circumstances. For instance, on Saturday morning (the day of the first round of shots), P. and I had a funeral to go to. Problem, right? Absolutely not. A nurse met us at the church parking lot where she took all of P.'s vitals, a blood sample, and administered the shots in the back of her car before the funeral mass. Thankfully, the symptoms didn't appear immediately so we were able to make it through the mass before P. started feeling achy. He didn't say anything but I had my suspicions. And my suspicions were confirmed when P. suggested we skip the post-funeral lunch. Instead we went for a little walk through P.'s old stomping grounds followed by Friends with Benefits in an air conditioned movie theater where we upgraded to VIP seats and drank some local IPA. I think that's exactly what the doctor would've ordered.
Saturday night, P. and I were invited to an engagement party of my dear childhood friend. P. knew how much it meant to me, so he put on his bravest face and told me we were going. At that moment I wanted to jump on him, grab his face, and plant the biggest smooch on his perfect lips. But considering that such actions would cause him to fall over screaming in pain I resisted and instead very gently stroked his head and said 'thank you'. His response? "Ouch, my hair hurts." Poor guy.
The party was a lot of fun. I got to reconnect with some childhood friends, and P. got to meet the people who helped shape me into the person I am today. I have to say, no one at the party could have guessed how uncomfortable P. was. He really is something else. Something really really good.
 |
| The bride-to-be, me, and Big Money Mike. We've been friends since 7th grade. |
 |
| See that jar in my hand? That would be moonshine. |
On Sunday, we were supposed to go to P.'s parent's house for a huge family gathering. Well, after that morning's round of shots (which were administered in the back of a car overlooking a cemetery, i should add), P. was really hurting. So we called up his mom, explained the situation, and headed back to the movie theater. Horrible Bosses this time. We then made a pit stop at a little Irish shop where P. reconnected with his roots.
I have never seen P. more miserable than he was that night. Poor guy was coughing, shivering, and really in a lot of pain. And again, there was absolutely nothing I could do. He didn't get much sleep and headed off to work this morning. He has two more days of shots and then we're heading to Grand Rapids for a 4 hour procedure that will remove the stem cells from his blood stream.
I won't get into too many details, but I do have to say how honored I am to have such an incredible man in my life. He is going through so much suffering to help a fellow human being, and he is so humble about it. He doesn't complain or make excuses. He doesn't expect people to make exceptions for him. He doesn't expect to be treated any differently. In fact, until I publish this post, there are only a handful of people who know about this. But I want to honor him, the sacrifice he is making, and the suffering he is enduring. I think that we can all learn a little something from him. We are one big global family, and a few days of suffering can save a fellow human being's life. So please make the sacrifice, the commitment, and register to be a bone marrow donor. It's easy. And it's so so so worth it.
Please keep P. in your thoughts on Wednesday evening and all the days leading up to then.
Hope everyone had a lovely weekend!
