That's What Friends Are For

This is the title of a beautiful Dionne Warwick song. A truly beautiful one, for its music and its message.

Today is Yam's 18th day in the hospital. A special day. As special as Dionne Warwick' song. Karla Johnston Almazan (Yam's Mommy K) called long distance from Davao. For the past few days Yam's mood was nothing more than plain valley. No hills, not small undulations. But Mommy K's voice on the other end lightened up Yam's dormant mood, revved up her latent energy and charged up her sagging countenance. They talked for almost an hour, the way they always do, and in the process, transforming each other into better persons.

Warwick's song reverberates in the air:

"Keep smilin’, keep shinin’
Knowin’ you can always count on me, for sure
That’s what friends are for
For good times and bad times
I’ll be on your side forever more
That’s what friends are for"

Part 6. Survivor Me

This time, the whole family was present. I mean the WHOLE, man! (Excluding the lolos and lolas okay? Just the six of us.) They were all home because of Christmas break, which helped me a lot.

I was discharged from the hospital after ten days meaning I missed the party and I celebrated Christmas in the hospital. NO BIGGIE! At least I’m still alive, right? Since I didn’t celebrate Christmas that lively, I planned to make it up for New Year.

New Year was a blast. The usual family photo shoot and Media Noche (though we ate it after New Year) was still made. Not to mention, all the pictures were not serious. I mean, not a single shot was fit to be put in a frame! But who cares? We had a lot of fun!

The following day, my sister had to go back to Manila. Seriously, why do the need to be back at school by January 3?

Then, both my brothers went back to their work places. And so, I was again left alone. But I was happy despite that.

While writing this article, I remembered what my friend Karla always says to me. She always says that I’m unlucky yet I’m still lucky. I guess now, I absorbed what that really meant. It meant I was unlucky because I got this cancer but still lucky because I also got friends and family that would never leave me. And that’s more powerful than the disease I got in my body, which made me hang on and fight and it also made me realize that I wasn’t alone.

Part 5. Defeating Leukemia – The Post-Transplant Journey

My routine was still the same; weekly lab tests, consultations, medicine, you name it. In early January 2007, we went back to Manila to attend the BMT party that was held yearly. Other leukemia survivors also attended. It was also in that month that I was to reach my 100^th day post transplant. I forgot how we celebrated that milestone, but I was happy that time.

Over the next months, I started taking the examinations from our school. Fortunately, they allowed me to have a home study program since I have this condition. A teacher from school comes to our house every week to administer the test. During the summer, my friends from school kept on calling me, which was good because I missed them so much. Most calls were from Karla and Elaine, two of my closest friends. We were also informed that I somehow managed to pass all of my tests, meaning if I planned to go to school the next opening, I would be a sixth grader.

June came, which meant school. And it meant the same for me. I went to school; I sort of looked different especially with the hair. You see, before I got the disease, my hair was straight. Now, it’s curly, the very reason why I’m now known as ‘curly tops’ in our batch. I saw my most of my classmates back when I was in grade four.

But it was different now; I was already in grade six. My teachers already knew about my condition and asked me how I was doing. I attended school from June up to August with some absences in between because of occasional fever. At the start of September, we went to nearby Panabo City to attend a Science Quiz Bee. There were three students representing each school and I was one of the three from ours. We went back to Davao in the afternoon. Unfortunately, we didn’t enter the next round of tests for the quiz bee.

Part 4. Fighting Back With An Army

Well, I knew I had to keep fighting even though I was already semi-bald. So, after I was discharged from the hospital, we went on with the second and third session. After the second session, my doctor announced that I was already on remission. And the same thing after the third session.

Being on remission means that there are no more cancer cells in my bone marrow and that I was ready for a Bone Marrow Transplant (BMT). The transplant would increase my chances of not having a relapse. Now all we need to do was to find a compatible donor and raise funds for the operation, which at that time costed about Php 2-3 M.

According to experts, it’s difficult to find a matched donor. But with me having three siblings, there is a good chance that one of them could a match. We started off with my sister. We were subjected to HLA typing. HLA means Human Leukocyte Antigen. It has something to do with the nature of our blood and bone marrow. Unluckily, she wasn’t a match. Next was my eldest brother. This time, we were compatible.

After knowing that my brother and I were a match, my doctor immediately told my parents the names of doctors in Manila who could possibly do the transplant. Every time my father would go to Manila for meetings, he would find time to talk to them. Back here in Davao, my brother and I were busy with a series of blood tests in preparation for the BMT. While occupied with the tests, we were also busy with the funds for the transplant.

And by that time, my school, the Philippine Women’s College of Davao, already knew about my condition. They also began fund raising events to help in my operation. On the second week of September 2006, my parents, helper and I went to Manila. My sister was left here in Davao together with our other helper and two of our mom’s colleagues. My dad had a high school classmate living near Asian Hospital (the hospital where I was to be admitted) who gladly invited us to stay with them while there in Manila.

Before I was admitted at the hospital, we went to the Philippine Charity and Sweepstakes Office (PCSO) to claim our grant. They gave us a big amount of money for the transplant. Then we went to meet my two new, handsome doctors, (they’d hate me if I didn’t write handsome there) Dr. Francisco Lopez and Dr. Allan Racho. A few days after that, I was finally admitted in the hospital and in no time, I was in the operation room for the insertion of the central line. My mom was there with me. Of course, I was asleep the whole time because if I were awake, it would be so unpleasant. After the insertion, I woke up at the recovery room. Then I was brought back to room 713, my domain for the next three weeks.

Before harvesting stem cells from my brother, I went through a last round of chemotherapy. Days before the transplant itself, my brother was given shots of GCSF. That’s the acronym for Granulocyte Colony-Stimulating Factor. Its purpose is to increase the stem cell production and to enable the stem cells to come out of the marrow and into the bloodstream. What my brother is going to donate is his stem cells not the marrow itself. Stem cells are the ones that come out of the bone marrow and eventually become the blood cells.

Part 3. The Beast Strikes Hard

Few days after my first chemotherapy session, when I awoke from my sleep, my hair was all messed up. My sister, whose favorite subject is me, offered to comb my hair. I accepted her offer since I can’t comb my hair because my right hand was connected to the intravenous (IV) feeding bottle.

I sat on the bed and gave her the comb. After a while, she fell silent. “Yam,” she said showing me a handful of black hair. That black hair was mine. The sight of my hair falling around the white sheets each day saddened me. All my mom and sister could do was save my fallen hair in a plastic bag. To make a sad fact alluring, I joked to them “Pwede na yan na ipagawa na wig ni daddy!” (You can save my hair for Daddy's wig)