The first two I Chemos adjourned quite well. Friends and family came to visit me often. Above all, my boy friend. Oh man, I was scared that he keeps it all and perhaps not by separating from me. But not at all, we are now even closer welded together. WE have talked about a lot and have also written letters - that's sometimes easier to express their own fears and feelings.
With my thoughts had, but I did not want to actually set apart: "If never matching is found, I'm still about to live a few months." This possibility left a tension that was there even with the greatest distraction. We, my sister, my mom, my friend, my family and my friends were waiting eagerly for the result of the search. A week went by. Then the second. I firmly believed that I would find a suitable donor. But the question "What is hen, huh?" appeared again and again. I tried to turn to pour everything, because I can not do anything since. But it was about my life. Hey, it's about my life and I myself can only wait and sit there! Tension was written all the faces of people who are close to me.
The sixth week was dawning. I went a little walk down the hall, I was even out, but due to low white blood cell count with fatter Darth Vader mask and I often really do not feel like being stared at by people in the park. So I strolled through the aisles and met the doctor who bustled frantically anywhere. "Hello, all right?" "Yes." We scurried and walked on together. Then he said casually: "Oh, before I forget: It was found a potential donor, he is just tested in detail."
I stared at him. I did not know what to do. I went to my room and sat on the bed and stared at the wall now. Total void in my head. It took a bit and as I said so to some extent understood, the tears streamed from my eyes. A potential donor, please let him fit!
It took about three more weeks until it was clear: he or she fits.