“I know. That’s why I came to see you.” Pam’s gaze flew to meet Cathy’s over the small head. The depth of shock and anguish in Pam’s expression startled her.
Cathy sat down on the other side of the bed to get her own hug from her daughter. She stroked the shocking-pink silk skull cap. “I love this, Chloe! It’s new, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh, and the earrings you got me look really good with it, too.” Chloe fingered the pink plastic hoops in her petite ears.
“Yes, they do! You look just like a gypsy princess,” said Cathy, smiling.
Several minutes later, Cathy and Pam each hugged Chloe and blew kisses before they left the hospital room. Pam immediately sagged against the grayish-green wall. Her face was white, and tears trickled down her cheeks. “Oh, God, I didn’t know—I didn’t imagine—”
“I’m so sorry, Pam. I forgot.” Cathy felt awful. “She wasn’t sick when you and John left. I should have warned you what to expect.”
“I knew she wouldn’t look the same, of course I did! But–but until I saw her, I didn’t realize…” Pam strove to take a deep breath. She brushed her wet cheeks and straightened her posture.
Concerned for her, Cathy reached out to touch her arm. “Are you going to be all right?”
Pam shook her head, shaking off the question, as well. She stared at Cathy. “How do you do it, Cathy?”
Cathy turned her palm upward, helplessly. “You just do.”
Slowly, Pam nodded. “Yes, okay then.” She met Cathy’s eyes, her own gaze clear and steady. “Let’s go see Chloe’s oncologist.”
Even though the procedure had been explained to Cathy, and also to Pam by her own medical advisor before she had arrived, Dr. Richards carefully went through it again. Pam would receive injections of a drug called Filgrastim to move more blood-forming cells out of her bone marrow and into her bloodstream. “We’ll administer Filgrastim each day for five days before the donation. On the fifth day, you’ll receive your final dose of Filgrastim and then donate your blood cells through a process called apheresis, which is similar to donating plasma.” The oncologist went on to explain that for the donation a needle would be placed into each of Pam’s arms. Blood would be removed from a vein in one arm and passed through tubing into a blood cell separator machine. The machine would collect blood-forming cells, platelets, and some white blood cells for the donation to Chloe. Plasma and red blood cells would be returned to Pam’s body through the needle in the other arm.
“If only one donation is done, it may take up to six hours. If two donations are done on separate days, each collection will take three to four hours,” said Dr. Richards. “I’m certain that your own physician has already discussed the possible side effects that you may experience from the Filgrastim injections, such as flu-like symptoms, but those should disappear shortly after the donation.”
“Yes, but I’m not concerned about any of that. My niece has already been through a lot more than I could possibly imagine,” said Pam quietly. “Dr. Richards, can we get started?”
The oncologist smiled and nodded. He stood up. “I’ll let them know that you’re ready to go in.” He held out his hand and shook her hand. “I’m glad to have met you, Mrs. Thompson. I will see you again in five days.”
The five days seemed to crawl by. Cathy drove her sister to and from the outpatient clinic for each injection. She was worried as she saw that her sister was beginning to feel the whiplash of the side effects. Looking pale and listless, Pam didn’t complain, but she admitted to bad headaches and bone and muscle aches. On the fifth day, Pam’s symptoms seemed to peak. Cathy wanted to take off a few hours from work to care for her sister, but Pam insisted that she would be fine on her own. “I’m having trouble sleeping nights. All I want to do is crawl back into bed, so there’s no point in your being here,” she said tiredly. “You need to save your time and spend it with Chloe, not me.”