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My Name is Might Have Been

I kind of had a bummer of a morning.

It’s one of those things that I actually felt coming.  I can’t describe it.  A couple of months ago, I had high, high hopes for this thing happening, but after not hearing anything, and then not hearing anything, and then, finally, not hearing anything, my thoughts turned negative.

So now I can’t decide if my thoughts turned negative because I somehow knew it wasn’t going to happen, or if it didn’t happen because my thoughts turned negative.

Either way, the envelope was there, sitting on my kitchen counter this morning.  (How it got to the counter and managed to sit all night without me knowing about it, I have yet to figure out.)  But the envelope only confirmed my suspicions.  Had things gone the way I wanted them to go, I would have gotten a phone call – not a nondescript, cold little envelope, the weight of which made it feel like I was holding a twenty pound dumbbell.

On my chest.

I opened it anyway, already knowing what it said – that, for some reason or another, I would not be donating bone marrow to my potential match.  I would not be saving a life.

It turns out the reason is not because, after extensive blood testing, they determined I’m not a great match.  It’s because the patient is no longer a candidate for receiving bone marrow.  Which, I have to say, is news that likely bodes far worse for the patient than it does for me.

But I still feel bummed.

I wanted to help.

I wanted to do something worthwhile.

I wanted to do something that meant something to someone.

But I’m starting to realize… It’s not really about what I want, is it?

I’m going to stay on the Department of Defense Bone Marrow Donor list, for which I signed up when I worked for the Army a couple of years ago and promptly forgot about until they called me just before Christmas.  If you’re not affiliated with the Department of Defense but still want to consider putting yourself on the National Marrow Donor list (at no commitment to you – there will always be a choice about whether or not you want to donate, right up until the end), check out their website,

Let me know if you have any questions.

*Title taken from lyrics to Celebrity Skin, by Hole.


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Very touching post I don’t know what to say other than it really was the thought that counts. Thats what should make you feel good even if in the end the offer wasn’t needed you were there you were willing. That made the differences in itself.


Thanks, Eugene. :) I know you’re right – it’s just still disappointing to find out you can’t help someone when you really, really wanted to do it. You know?

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