Today Sarah is officially a ten year, bone marrow transplant survivor!
Woo-hoo and hallelujah!
I told Steve this morning that I didn’t have a real clear plan of what I wanted to say on the blog today; I mean the picture above communicates just about everything.
But I’m not a wordy, photo-loving blogger for nothing so please humor me if I feel compelled to add a few more stories and pictures from her journey as we celebrate this great day!
If you’ve ever wondered exactly what a bone marrow transplant looks like, or wondered if it was some complicated, invasive, painful procedure, here’s a photo of Sarah, smack dab in the middle of transplant. It basically consists of an infusion of her (previously) collected stem cells. That’s it! It’s the days before and the days after that are tough.
(Since most kids get a bad taste in their mouths from the infusion of stem cells, they are given a lollipop during the procedure.)
Before Sarah’s actual transplant day, she had three days of massive chemo infusions which in her doctor’s words, would have killed an adult. (It seems as though kids’ bodies are able to stand more than adults’.)
And speaking of chemo, I will never forget watching the nurses come into the room to hang the bags of chemo. They would don all sorts of gear to protect themselves from coming into contact with the liquid in any way and I would think, “Excuse me? That stuff that you’re afraid to touch is the same stuff you’re going to pump into my 7-year old daughter’s body? What’s wrong with this picture?”
Yes, chemo is poison.
But it’s precious poison.
Earlier in Sarah’s treatment, it killed her cancer. And then leading up to transplant, it did its assigned duty of killing off her immune system so that way her body would be a ready receptacle for the stem cells that were about to set up housekeeping.
And if chemo is a precious poison, stem cells are a precious medicine. Once they are collected (in Sarah’s case, she was her own donor), the medical facility is incredibly careful with them, keeping them in a highly secure place and freezing them at exact temperatures until the day they are needed.
If something had happened to ruin Sarah’s stem cells on the day of transplant, she would have died. She had absolutely no immune system remaining and without her stem cells to jump-start her immune system, she would have been a goner.
So that was a valuable bag that was hung on her medicine pole that day.
Here is she is about the enter the transplant floor. (It was January 2, 2003, our 21st wedding anniversary.)
I think what makes me the saddest about this photo is the eager, courageous look on her face as she got ready to walk through the doors. She trusted her parents and she trusted her doctors to do the best thing or her.
But as she walked jauntily down the hallway, I felt like crying because I had given my signed permission for her to be subjected to the worst four weeks of her life.
And it was bad.
Really bad.
At one point, her temperature got over 106 degrees as they tried trying desperately to cool her off. That was a scary day.
I spent many hours in this chair by the window, standing guard over my small warrior. But even warrior’s mommies need to sleep every now and then, so I’d catch a nap whenever I could.
Thankfully though, it wasn’t all gloom and doom on the transplant floor. Our doctor friend, Tracy Manuck, visited often to hang out with Sarah and take her for rides in the red wagon.
Our pastor’s wife and dear friend, Carolyn Stephenson, drove four hours round trip several different times to take Sarah for walks and read her endless strings of June B. Jones books.
And best of all, Sarah’s dearest childhood friend, Victoria,came to visit a couple times.
Here she is shortly after transplant, posing proudly with her official certificate.
The day finally came (after a month of being inpatient) when Sarah was well enough to be discharged.
The transplant floor has a tradition of giving each child who leaves a confetti shower and everyone who is able, lines the walls and cheers and claps.
A joyful procession.
Since Sarah was required to stay near the hospital for daily follow-up visits and any necessary emergency care, she and I moved into a nearby apartment. Steve and Nathan headed back home so that Nathan could get back to school.
That was a challenging time for me. I was exhausted and stressed and my husband and son were living 2 1/2 hours away. And then to make things even more interesting, on our very first day in the apartment we were visited by a home nurse who spent two hours explaining to my befuddled brain all of these medical items. What you see below is just one day’s worth of the stuff Sarah needed. And I had to learn how to use it all!
Thankfully, God sent an angel to me in the form of my sister, Debbie, who flew in from Wisconsin to be with Sarah and me for about a week. Debbie grocery shopped, and cooked, and stayed with Sarah so I could get out for a few minutes every day. (Debbie also flew in to help me after my mastectomy in 2010; she is obviously gifted in the efficient, compassionate, funny, loving sister department.)
After a few more weeks passed, Sarah and I were finally able to move back home with Steve and Nathan and Snowy. What a joyful day that was. We still had plenty of medical stress and drama to follow but at least we had made it through the worst of it.
This final picture of Sarah sums up the journey quite well. No matter how hard things got for her, she always looked up. And she taught us to do the same.
Happy anniversary, sweet baby girl; you are a treasure to our hearts. Keep looking up!
God is so amazing!! Even though it seemed like I prayed so hard for Sarah during those days, I am not sure I really believed the answer would be “yes.” Praise His Holy Name.
Margie, so thankful for prayers answered for Sarah but sad for those families who ended up losing their children to cancer. I will never forget those sweet children on the transplant floor with Sarah. They were ALL winners!
Thank you Becky for writing that post. I have tears in my eyes but am so glad that your Sarah Elizabeth made it! She is a fighter…it must be the name.
Rachel, yes I think that “Sarah” is an amazing name for two amazing girls. Grace to you today.
Your family continues to inspire me! Thanks for sharing your journey and memories.
Dickie, how wonderful to hear from you; thanks for dropping by! YOU are an inspiration to me!!
Happy anniversary and re-birthday, lovely lady! Sarah, you are an inspiration!
Nancy, I know that she has sure inspired ME over the years!
Happy Anniversary, Sarah! You are an inspiration to so many. Keep up the good work!
Thank you Gayle, for your encouraging words. It was a great anniversary–and now we’re looking forward to TWENTY years post transplant!
Amazing! Such strength! Congratulations, Sarah, and the entire Smith family!
Whitney, and the entire Smith family says thank you! 🙂
Reading this report of days past makes me thankful, that these horrible days are a thing of days long gone and that Sarah today is a very healthy 17-year-old young woman!
Congratulations, Sarah! May there be many, many, many more decades of anniversaries! All the best, Sarah, stay healthy!
best wishes Nadine from Germany
Nadine, always nice to hear from our German friend! I’m thankful right along with you that those are horrible days are long gone. They sure make us appreciate good health and good days!
How touching and wonderful!
Angela, wonderful, indeed!
I love you and miss you and am so proud of you, Sarah! Congratulations!
Love, Grandma Campbell
Mom, love seeing your name pop up here. Hope you’re feeling better. Love you!
In a total puddle and so proud of Sarah and the Smith family. Rejoicing and thankful!
Love Deb
Deb, in a puddle right there with you. (Did you wear your rain boots?) Thanks for being a great aunt to Sarah through the years and a ministering angel to me.
What more can I say except Praise the Lord. thanks for His unspeakable kindness.
Sharyn, we are thankful right along with you!
Truly a miracle worthy of such celebration! Your story is an inspiration to us all. Such a beautiful young woman!
Thank you, Liz, for celebrating our miracle with us. It’s nice to have the Smithellaneous family rejoicing, too!
Beautiful, beautiful story. Way to go Miss Sarah!! Way to go Mom (and Dad and big brother as well)!!
Bec, thanks for your words and your “way to go’s.” 🙂 Nice to have you on our cheering team!
Happy 10th “Re-birthday”, Sarah! You are truly a gift from God!
Elizabeth, that she is.
Oh, and I LOVE the red hat and scarf!! Defintely one of your colors!!!
It is looking at pictures like this and seeing 10 years down the road that I love my job, and I thank God for it!! Happy Anniversary Sarah, and family!! It does not seem like 10 years ago that I was with you in that room taking your stem cells, and watching Jimmy Neutron!! You are a special girl, and truly a special family, and I pray that God will continue to watch over you and protect you! I love your family so much ,and love that I can give other familes hope by your story!!
Tiffany, I’m so glad that you are passing Sarah’s story along and so thankful for the part that you had in Sarah’s miracle. You’re a great stem cell collector! 🙂
Such a heart-warming story! I love the last photo of Sarah looking out the window! It shows that she is ready to out there and LIVE!
Thank you for sharing this story. And Happy Anniversary!
Krista, I love that picture, too. So simple, and sweet and TRUE!
“Yesterday is history.
Tomorrow is a mystery.
Today is a gift.
That’s why it’s called the PRESENT!”
May Sarah be blessed with MANY presents! 🙂
Michelle, I love that little poem; how very true it is. Thanks for your happy wishes.
🙂
🙂 back atcha! Lots to smile about this week.
Congratulations to all of you, she is truly a miracle.
I was wondering if Sarah felt the ‘weight’ of surviving. As in, since she has been given the precious gift of a future, does she feel that she has to ‘do something great’ with it, or is she content to live her life out in an ordinary way like the rest of us?
Odd question, I know, lol.
Lesley, that’s a great question and very insightful. Although Sarah may answer it at some point later (maybe on her blog?) for right now I would just say that she does experience some survivor’s guilt occasionally; however, I’ve never really heard about her talk about feeling any “pressure” to do something huge with her life. I mainly just hear her making plans to follow her dreams and her callings which, for a survivor, is huge in its own way! 🙂
Happy 10th anniversday Sarah!
Thanks, Trine. Great to hear from you.
Happy 10th anniversary Sarah. And Becky. And all the Smiths. 🙂 🙂
Olivia, in the last few moments, I’ve responded to comments from Australia, Denmark, Germany and now Italy! Love my international Smithellaneous family. (And thanks for your congratulations!)
I’ve followed your story for many many years. What a miracle Sarah is! Your blog helped me thru diagnosis and the death of my Mother from leukemia. Thank you! God Bless You!
Sarabeth, I am so very thankful to know that our family, our journey, and my writing has made a difference in your life as you’ve dealt with the loss of your mom. Thanks so much for letting me know.
Yes Becky, your post today made me cry. Happy tears for your family. Sad tears that Sarah had to endure so very much. But God is merciful and Sarah is a survivor!!! And a very beautiful young woman as well. Happy 10-year Anniversary Sarah!!
LeeAnne, isn’t it funny how tears can represent so many emotions . . . happy and sad, all in one teardrop?
Thanks for your good wishes.
That story truly brought tears to my eyes! Thank you for sharing.
Anonymous, it is a joy to share a story that brings tears of thanksgiving. I am grateful to still have my daughter and to still have her story to tell!
Amazing story…….amazing girl…….amazing God! Happy 10th anniversary, Sarah! Here’s to countless more. Thanks, Becky, for sharing her with all of us. Much love from Ohio. Linda
Linda, amazing story . . . girl . . . God. That sums it up perfectly.
WOW!
Mary, 🙂