August 13th, 2018 By Chicken Strip

God sure loves to play the long game. I donated blood stem cells on May 13, 2015 to a leukemia patient I didn’t know and wouldn’t meet for almost 3 years. In the years that followed God would use that 4+ hour donation to perform more miracles in my life than I could have ever imagined. I knew my donation had the potential to change a leukemia patient’s life I had no idea what God had in store for me. God would use this moment in my life to speak to my depression and suicidality, to restore my relationship with my parents,  to draw me closer to Him and explain his love in a way not possible any other way, and ultimately to share my experiences with you.

The Donation

I received an e-mail followed by a letter in October 2014 from Be The Match explaining that me and my bone marrow was a potential match for a leukemia patient. This was the communication I’d always hoped for in the back of my head but never really thought I’d ever receive. It’d been over 3 years since I’d joined the bone marrow registry through Be The Match. They came to my college my senior year and as I walked through one of the buildings on campus with 2 of my closest friends we saw their table. All it took was a cheek swab to join the registry so we all donated our saliva I’m sure thinking that’s the last we’d ever hear about that. I received e-mails every few months informing me of the latest news from Be The Match and I’d dutifully click the link to confirm my commitment to remain on the registry. That’s all it took from me: a check swab and few clicks to set all of this in motion.

After a phone call confirming my interest in being a potential donor I began the first of the blood tests to confirm my compatibility. As these were positive I progressed to a full physical in the spring. I took a day and drove up to Chapel Hill. I received the most intensive physical exam I’ve ever undergone. It included no less than 13 blood tests (which I’m sure pale in comparison to any recipient’s medical history), an EKG, a chest x-ray, and series of health questionnaires. An important fact at this time was I’d just joined F3 in August 2014 and had been consistently working out with a crazy group of F3ers in the morning and was probably at the peak of my physical health. I remember the doctor asking how often I exercised and I laughed. I said I try to workout with F3 4 times a week but it’s not always that often (I didn’t explain the concept of fart sacking – if you don’t know what that term is referring to ask a guy in F3, they may tell you or they may just laugh). The fact that F3 was an integral part of my life during my donation and when I later met my recipient is not coincidental. No single activity in my entire life has had a larger impact on my physical health and it’s impact on my mental health, social life, and relationship with God cannot be measured.

A little while later I received the news that based on all the blood tests performed and my physical I’d been selected as a donor. I learned I would donate peripheral blood stem cell (PBSC) rather than marrow through a process called apheresis. This is the same process used when donating platelets though a blood donor organization. For a week prior to the donation I received a shot that would stimulate blood stem cell production. The only potential effect I was told I might feel is some bone ache but I never had any physical problems at all. I was even able to work out with F3 the day before my donation.  Selfishly I was very glad to be donating through this process, the other process involving donation of actual bone marrow came with a recommendation to suspend exercise briefly before and after donating.

I took the day off which my boss who I didn’t have a great relationship at the time with was more than happy to grant me. She was very supportive and I’m very grateful for the opportunity she gave me. I drove up to Chapel Hill the night before and prepared for the donation the following morning. Be The Match paid for everything. I never saw a bill from any clinic or hospital for any of the tests or procedures and was reimbursed for any travel, parking, lodging and meals. Another reason I’m very excited to give back to Be The Match. I donated in the oncology ward while others were receive another one of their numerous transfusions. Disclaimer here: I’ve never been a fan of needles. I have to look away when watching the “intense” scenes of the show House or ER. I’ve learned to look away while giving blood (I’m O- so I try to donate whenever possible so far I’m up to 4 gallons). I made sure to avert my gaze during the initial needle stick, but that day seeing all the patients who were on a first name basis with the staff took that pain and anxiety away. I remember the staff being very attentive and asking me if I needed anything and thinking I’m not the one they should be concerned with, but they were equally supportive of their patients as they were supportive of my donation. I’ve often given blood quickly so the entire process took just over 4 hours before they’d harvested enough blood stem cells. I was presented with a tar heel pin that under normal circumstances would be considered trash, but has since become one of my prized possessions I keep in my memories box. And that was that, I drove back to Charlotte that afternoon and went back to my daily routine which included F3 in the morning (well some mornings).

One Year Later

Aside from the occasional call from Be The Match checking in on me and my health and the wonderful gift of a clock commemorating the date of my donation I didn’t think about the donation often. My relationship with my parents was…distant…at that point in my life and as a result I never told them about my donation. I never mentioned it to my brother, to my friends at church, and aside from a quiet mention the last time at F3 before the donation never brought it up with my F3 brothers.

A year passed and I was given the opportunity to share my contact information with my blood stem cell recipient and vice versa.  Up until this point the only information I’d received was the patient was a male who lived in North America and was most likely older as doctors preferred blood stem cell donations for older patients and bone marrow for younger patients. That was all I had. They might not even speak English. I quietly sent off my information and waited. While I understand (well not understand but accept) that God is outside of time I would like to think that this is one of those moments when God is just looking down smiling at my recipient and I as we unravel the surprise that God has being quietly, secretly arranging for years. He’s just paused waiting with unparalleled anticipation to see our reactions like when an engagement or birth announcement is shared with a spouse or parent. There’s that split second left where God is still the only one who knows everything he’s set in motion years ago and we’re just on the precipice of experiencing all of it and sharing in God’s work and joy. That’s a very human interpretation of God but I think illustrates how much he loves us even in small moments.

I opened the e-mail and released the secrets. My donor was indeed an older male who live in the United States. I’d already thought of the potential of meeting my recipient. I’d wondered if it’d be worth it to fly across the country just to meet them. That worry was immediately eradicated with the next revelation. He lived in North Carolina. Seriously?! 50 states and he lives in the same state as me?! Hold on, my world is getting smaller still. He lives in Hickory. A semi-small town/city (depending on who you ask) – it’s the big city for anyone from Lincoln, Burke, or the surrounding towns but a small town to those from Charlotte, Raleigh, etc. But more importantly it’s my hometown. Not where I was born, but where I was raised for 15 years (still over half my life). It’s only about an hour away from where I currently live. It’s where my parents still live. It’s home. And he lives there. Of all the gin joints in all towns in all the world… (yes, despite my age I’ve seen Casablanca).  But we’re not all the way through our journey into the Twilight Zone (what?! two black and white movie/TV references?!). Being the Millennial I am immediately went into Internet research mode. The first result is an accounting firm, no possible way, yet I confirm it, just like me he’s a CPA registered in NC. Two CPAs from Hickory, NC and we’re each other’s donor/recipient. To return to my earlier analogy this is when I picture God just laughing with the biggest grin on his face and my recipient and I turn to face God in astonishment as if to confirm there’s no way this is possible. There’s no way He could have orchestrated so many coincidences years ago. But he just nods His head while continuing to laugh at our astonishment confirming what our shocked faces silently ask Him.

But the connections aren’t over yet. Here my recipient has inside information my Internet research didn’t reveal. He’s very close friends with the pastor and his family of the church he attends in Hickory. He immediately shares the information with them about his donor. And the pastor and his wife shrink this small world even more. They know me. They moved shortly after my family to Hickory and their daughter was in my same grade from kindergarten through senior year of high school.

We sent a few e-mails revealing this information with each other and then finally spoke over the phone one day. There’s a few moments in my life I can vividly remember where I was when they were occurring. I remember laying on the bed in our house in Charlotte talking with a representative from Be The Match for the first time after receiving the letter and I can remember driving down the interstate talking to my recipient. He was chopping down trees at their home in the mountains. A leukemia patient a year after receiving his transfusion is out in the North Carolina summer sun chopping wood. At this point I was in the stages of moving and F3 had fallen to the wayside, but I’d like to think that my F3 powered blood was partially responsible for this show of strength by my recipient (a double respect).  He wanted to meet my wife, but well things weren’t going well in my life so I just didn’t see that being possible so I put it off.

A year and a half went by.

This includes 2016 and 2017 the darkest years of my life. I was far removed from any supports in my life. I’d long ago broken off contact with my parents and any interaction was so shallow there were No Diving signs up every time we spoke over the phone or met in person. My wife and I separated at the end of 2016 and would divorce in 2018 ending a short lived relationship that always had some element of separation even though the physical separation was only for a part of the time. I was distant from God. Any relationships with friends from church were drying up as I pushed them further away as my life unraveled more and more. My participation in F3 had long ago vanished. Aside from a few ill fated workouts at a new location closer to my house that resulted in Merlot spillage (again ask an F3er) and threats from a neighbor and the guy who pushed me into F3 at the beginning, that part of my life was a distant memory. In it’s place was severe depression and anxiety that I began treatment for in the form of counseling/therapy and medication at the end of 2016 and which I continue to this day.

All of this finally came crashing down the first week of July 2017. In the busiest week of the month for my department I didn’t come to work. Minimal communication even less explanations and even less work performed. That God would allow me to rebuild my relationships with my co-workers is a testimony to God’s mercy and my co-workers seemingly unending forgiveness and love. By the end of the week I checked myself into a psychiatry hospital to try to help me get a grip on my ever mounting depression and suicidal thoughts. I would ultimately spend a week in the hospital and another month in an outpatient program. It was here in the utter depths of depravity that God would change my life. My wife and brother would visit me everyday I was in the hospital. The call from my wife after I’d been admitted was the first my brother ever heard of the depression and suicidal thoughts I’d battled every moment for the past 7 months and had probably struggled to keep at bay for far longer. The call from the hospital to my parents were the first they’d ever heard of the same information from my own lips.

But slowly things would change. I ran for the first time in months. Not with F3, I was still too scared to face them but it helped set stage for a return as the runner’s high returned, a gift God had given me when I inherited the same build, athleticism and metabolism my dad the runner has. I finally started speaking to my family again, primarily my brother, but slowly the door that I’d meticulously boarded up between my parents and I creaked open. I went back to work and I went back to church. Things were pretty far from okay, but they were better.

The Reprise (My Mom)

My relationship with my parents was one of the first areas of my life to improve dramatically and it was through this that God reopened the door to meeting my recipient and continuing the plan he’d been laboring over for years. It was November 2017, I was driving up I-40 headed to Fletcher staring at the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains when God put the thought in my head. It was literally out of nowhere. I hadn’t thought about my stem cell donation for months. Then I realized my parents are now attending the same church my recipient attends. As I’d repaired my relationship with my parents I found out they had started attending a different church. I immediately called my mom out of the blue. After some small talk I launched into my reason for the call. For several minutes I explained everything, retelling much of the story I’d shared above about my donation. I shared the numerous coincidences and then the ultimate kicker: he goes to your church. And then God revealed His hand again in a way I never expected. My mom said I know. Unbeknownst to me, the pastor’s wife had already spoken to my mom about it and revealed to her about my donation. In an act only God could orchestrate, God used my donation 2 and a half years ago to bring my mom and closer together. Me to my mom as I shared with her a secret hardly any knew about my life and my mom to me as she respected my privacy enough and never revealed the insider information she had (quite a feat given her lack of a poker face). As I drove along the interstate with tears rolling down my cheeks I could feel the distance shrinking between my mom and I even as I climbed up the mountains and put more physical miles between us.

The Meeting (And How God Spoke to Me)

This set in motion a loose plan for my recipient and I to meet on one of my trips to Hickory. The date was finally set: Easter Sunday 2018. Here I’ll transcribe my thoughts I recorded the day I met him, occasionally interjecting with my thoughts today in brackets [ ].

“It was difficult to meet them. I hadn’t called and told him I was coming or coordinated any plans so mom and I just looked for them in the sanctuary [my mom] having met his wife Sharon a few weeks prior. We still didn’t see them and waited afterward to see them, but it still didn’t work out (I hate that phrase for some reason – it sounds like lazy and un-creative writing). Mom was getting anxious and worried – I thought due to desires for control but I realized later some (if not all) of this was due to excitement and anticipation of our meeting. I became anxious once it became obvious it wouldn’t be as simple as I’d hoped and began to worry I’d have to try and coordinate another meeting rather than relying on this chance encounter. I’d already agonized over calling my recipient. Putting it off for months and passing up opportunities to meet over Christmas and to call any day this past week to coordinate getting together. I didn’t know at the time why I was so anxious about it and avoiding it. Well luckily (although it was God and not luck) God prevailed and we met.

It was perfect.

Our whole families were there out front of a gorgeous stone church on a perfect spring day that had only just arrived that week. And it was easy. But I saw in each of their eyes – his daughters and wife especially past the tears true joy and true thanks. I hugged the man who had a part of me [in him] and instantly our families were joined not just physically by blood but something more and much deeper.

But even in talking with him and his family and getting to relive an exciting experience I’d hidden away from everyone else I felt out of place like there was something missing. The man [me] who tears up at any sentimental story didn’t cry here. Not that I had to, but it [indicated] I was disconnected – part of me was treating it like an interview – I was trying to play  a role, look the part, say what I should say. I was conscious of and embarrassed by my jeans, my long hair, my young look, my imperfect life, divorce, lack of a family, not having it together, only a corporate accountant. [I felt myself] emphasizing my years in Big 4 [to substantiate myself]. I didn’t know why I felt this way until later.

I didn’t feel worthy.

I didn’t feel worthy of their thanks and attention. I didn’t feel worthy because I’d broken off contact with him, my life was “a mess,” I wasn’t put together – I didn’t have a wife and kids, I wasn’t grown up.

And then I realized that didn’t matter to him and his family. They didn’t see all of that and certainly not someone unworthy. I was already all they needed – the person who gave their husband/dad health and new life. But I wanted to say “But I didn’t do anything – I only gave some blood it wasn’t a big deal, it didn’t require a lot of me.”

But that’s what he needed.

Then I heard God saying that to me. Feeling unworthy of His Son’s sacrifice and unable to approach Him. I wanted to say – my life’s a mess all I’ve done is a few things and then He said I never asked you to do anything or needed anything from you. You can’t be unworthy of a gift from me. I’m choosing to give this to you because I love you not because you earned it. It’s not yours to earn. Any my son would die for you if you were the only sinner. He would gladly do it. Because those 3 hours and 3 days apart from me were so terrible He would never let anyone go through what He had to endure. [I responded:] “But why? Why me?” [God’s simple yet profound answer:] Because I love you. And that’s more than enough of a reason for me to do anything for you – including sending my Son to die for you.

While you have your blood for your recipient which is now in Him, my Son shed his blood for you which is now in you.”

Cold and Messy Return to F3

After meeting my recipient I found out that my blood which was now his blood was a little too good. Every 4 weeks he goes to have a pint of blood taken off. Although I have no medical proof of this I credit F3 for this given that I was in my prime physical health when I donated the stem cells. But that peak has long since passed and it had been almost 2.5 years since I worked out consistently. Finally, a little before meeting my recipient I went back out and exercised with F3. It was a cold day in January. I’d met with my original EH (once again ask an F3er) and realized I was out of excuses. I knew the location close to me met the next morning and I knew a guy I’d met in my brief return to F3 lived in my apartment complex. And so it was arranged. He’d give me a ride to F3 in the morning I only had to remember what I wore to work out in the freezing temperatures at 5:30 (which I’ve fallen in love with again) and take the daily red pill and drag myself out of bed and meet him at his truck. It wasn’t pretty. At times the pax threatened to rename me due to the amount of Merlot spillage that occurred and I felt frustration over huge chasm between the fitness level I had been at during my peak in F3 and my current level. But I kept at it and like any good F3er I began looking for more.

Which led me to looking up races put on to raise money for Be The Match. Seeing all the charity races in the area got me interested in supporting a charity I had a personal connection with. When I found out they only had 6 races in 2018 I got worried though. Charlotte’s big, but it’s not Top 6 in the country big. Sure enough: Chicago, Long Beach, Philadelphia, New York, and their headquarters in Minneapolis had races. Nothing remotely in the South East.

Then there it was: CHARLOTTE. Another gift from God. To this day I have no idea how Charlotte was selected other than it being another secret God had squirreled away for years.

Which brings me to now and a joining of my loves: the Fitness of F3, giving back to Be The Match, and honoring God for all of the above that He’s done.

Please click this link to join my team and participate in the race on September 22 in Charlotte: Click here to view the team page for F3 Nation
If the text above does not appear as a clickable link, you can visit the web address:
http://www.bethematchfoundation.org/site/TR?team_id=48856&pg=team&fr_id=4153&s_locale=en_US&et=qLZor9d1fsVsaNuuoeIj3g&s_tafId=25358

Please click this link to support Be The Match and donate in honor of me and my recipient: Click here to visit my personal page.
If the text above does not appear as a clickable link, you can visit the web address:
http://www.bethematchfoundation.org/site/TR?px=4895333&pg=personal&fr_id=4153&s_locale=en_US&et=VTtmWLsIaIxh8w6wm9-zWg&s_tafId=25358

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