It feels like we have been training for this forever. Transplant. And now it’s happening. This Monday, Idan will have his central line placement surgery, and early Tuesday morning we will be admitted to start chemotherapy. Six days later, the donor will donate the “cure” in the form of peripheral blood stem cells (PBSC) and the nurse will infuse them slowly into Idan’s central line. Those cells will find their way to the inside of every bone in Idan’s body. The bone marrow, which will be empty as a result of the chemotherapy drugs and immunosuppressants, will host the new stem cells. Slowly, over many many days, weeks and months, the donor cells will set up shop and start producing Idan’s new blood system, including a working immune system.
They say that transplant is like a marathon. It is long, you have to keep a steady pace and keep going. Forward, onward, keeping your eyes on the goal, the cure. Like a marathon, we have been training for a long time for this. Ever since Idan’s first transplant almost three years ago, we knew that one day we might have to run this marathon again. Idan has grown up knowing that Seattle is where he had a transplant, and where he might once again return for his 2nd transplant. He keeps asking us if he will need another one after this, and we keep saying no, that we only really get two tries.
For the last year, Idan has spent countless hours playing with us and all his babysitters doctor. Like training for a marathon, he has been training by pretending to take blood, to get shots, to send blood back to Seattle, or making believe we are taking a flight to North Carolina or Seattle to bring the blood samples there. He has been preparing for this for so long that anticipation has grown to a point that tonight he told us how excited he was to start transplant this week. He was mainly talking about all the toys that he will be getting once he’s admitted to spend the next several weeks isolated in the hospital (the ones that very kind people of Seattle have given him). Still, the excitement is there, we are all excited (and terrified) to finally start the run, the long walk to a cure.
Everything has been falling into place for now. Idan is as healthy as one can be entering into transplant. Once we start it will be hard, things will get bad and ugly and rough. Amanda and I know this and are dreading the long days, watching the chemo affect Idan, making him sick and tired, all in the name of removing his defective bone marrow and making room for the donor cells to grow. There will be many setbacks and unexpected obstacles, but we have been training for this, and we know, no matter what, to keep our eye on the finish line, the cure.
Your words, spirit, courage, resilience, love and commitment are breathtaking and inspiring. And while this would never be a journey one would choose… You are taking the cards you’ve been dealt and in being who you each are, you’re creating a path for Idan and a hope for cure. Sharing this so publicly will help so many other families facing many health care challenges.
Sending you love and prayers for continued strength, recovery and cure. xoxo
We are with you in prayer.
You three are amazing! We love you and are thinking of you and praying for as few obstacles as possible and a lot of strength and good health.
Thanks! Dash to the family!
Akiva
As always your optimism inspires us.
Our tefilot for Idan will continue until this procedure is successfully completed
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Thanks so much!
We’re davenning for Idan to have a refuah shelaimah . may H-Shem give all of you the strength and wherewithal. bbracha rabba . the Setzer family south Africa.
Thanks so much!