Chapter 5 - The Match
"The chemotherapy isn't going to be enough," Dr. Evans said gently, sitting across from us in the consultation room. Elena looked numb. I reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. "The leukemia is aggressive. We need to move to a bone marrow transplant as soon as possible."
"Okay," I said immediately. "Test me. Test her parents, her cousins. Test everyone."
"Her parents have already been tested; they aren't a match," Dr. Evans replied. "And unfortunately, finding a match in the national registry can take months. Time is something Elena does not have in abundance."
I didn't accept that. I was a corporate lawyer who solved impossible problems for billion-dollar companies. I was not going to let bureaucracy dictate my ex-wife's survival.
I tapped into every resource I had. I spent tens of thousands of dollars of my own savings to launch a massive, targeted social media and local news campaign across Boston. I organized donor drives at my law firm, at local universities, and community centers. I didn't sleep. I practically lived on my phone in the hospital corridor, orchestrating the biggest fight of my life.
Elena watched me from her bed, a mixture of awe and gentle concern in her eyes.
"You're going to burn yourself out, Julian," she whispered one evening as I furiously typed emails on my laptop.
"I'll rest when you're cured," I replied without looking up.
Two and a half weeks later, Dr. Evans walked into the room with a file in his hand and a smile that reached his eyes.
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"We found a match," he said. "A 22-year-old college student from Chicago. He's willing to donate next week."
Elena burst into tears. I dropped my laptop, threw my arms around her, and buried my face in her neck. It was the first time in months I felt like I could actually breathe.
