Find A Donor

The fluorescent lights of the hospital room were now a fading memory, replaced by the comforting chaos of home. I stood in the kitchen, the familiar scent of coffee mingling with the soft sounds of Tristan’s laughter echoing from the living room. Andrew had stayed home with him, and I could hear their playful banter drifting through the open doorway, a much-needed balm for my worn out nerves.

Tristan was feeling better after his hospital stay; he had regained his energy and was back to his spirited self. But I couldn’t shake the anxiety that had settled in my chest ever since we received the news about his condition.

I had refused to let a random person be a potential donor. The thought of some stranger being responsible for my son’s health was unbearable. So when the doctor had called to inform me that my bone marrow didn’t match Tristan’s, nor did Andrew’s, I felt a new wave of hopelessness wash over me.

“Mom, come play!” Tristan’s voice rang out, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Ju