Christine's family has suffered as few have. Out of four children, three of them have had cancer. Her older sister, Jocelyn who fought cancer during college, has recently married and is living in Atlanta. Her younger brother, Francis Rex, was diagnosed when he was only 12 years old. Francis Rex and Christine had compatible HLA blood types, and Christine donated her own bone marrow in an attempt to save Rex's life. Because of the transplant, Rex lived for another few years but sadly passed away two months after his 16th birthday. At that time, Christine was 18, and a film student at Syracuse (she later transferred to and graduated from USC's Film School with a degree in Film Production/Directing). Now, it's Christine who needs a donor, and Francis Rex, the only compatible match in her family is no longer with us.
This is not Christine's first time battling cancer. She was first diagnosed three years ago, at age 30, with a tumor the size of a pineapple in her chest. She had a rare, very aggressive form of Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. The doctors gave her a month to live, and her father flew out to California to bring her home to die. But Christine stayed in Los Angeles at City of Hope Hospital, fought, and survived. Her treatment included chemotherapy and a stem cell transplant, a kind of Bone Marrow transplant where the patient's own cells are used, instead of those of a donor. It's a devastating and extremely risky process, during which the patient is given a fatal dose of chemotherapy, and then literally brought back from the brink of death by a last minute infusion of their own stem cells. What follows if the patient survives is 1 1/2 to 2 years of the kind of suffering most people can't even imagine, as the body slowly rebuilds its entire immune system literally from zero.
Even as she was going through this arduous process, Christine never stopped fighting, not only for her life, but also for her dreams. An alumnus of Syracuse University's Newhouse School of Communications and a graduate of USC's prestigious Film School, even as she was fighting cancer, Christine was still creating art. It takes most people 2 years to resume activity after a stem cell transplant. After 6 months, (before she was even allowed to go anywhere without a protective mask) Christine was back on her feet, directing a short film. Good news followed: the transplant was successful. Her cancer had gone into remission.
Christine returned to doing what she most loved: creating movies. Still recovering from the procedure, she took a part time job as an intern on a documentary film. By the time the film was finished, she was a Co-Producer. The documentary is a thought provoking examination of the implications of free speech and censorship. The film had a successful premiere at the AFI film festival this past November, receiving rave reviews. At the same time, Christine stayed involved in her community, working with other cancer patients at City of Hope, volunteering at a nearby yoga studio, and even writing for her local paper. She also found love again, with (if I do say it myself, one great guy), me.
Christine was on top of the world, until a blip on a routine scan turned into the worst news of her life all over again. 3 days before New Years Day, Christine found out that her cancer was back. And this time, neither chemotherapy nor a stem cell transplant was going to work. Christine needed a bone marrow transplant, and to do that, she needed a matching donor.
There are over 20,000 kinds of bone marrow, which makes finding a match difficult for anyone. But it is even harder for Christine because she is Filipino and needs a donor who is also Filipino--and there are hardly any Filipinos on the national registry. So far, a worldwide search of the donor registry has yet to turn up a single match for Christine. We estimate that we need to register 20,000 Filipinos to have a chance at a single person whose marrow matches Christines.
Christine's doctors say that without treatment, Christine has less than a year to live. The Pechera family is looking at its worst nightmare all over again. And at age 33, Christine is contemplating her own mortality, and wondering if a donor will be found in time, if at all.
If you are all or part Filipino, you may be the one in a million person who can save Christine's life. Please, join the National Registry by calling 1-800-MARROW2. All it takes is a simple finger prick blood test to find out if you are a match for Christine or another patient just like her.
Registering is easy. Just search our listing of drives by regions on this forum, or call 1-800-MARROW2 to find a drive or a donor center near you. Or even better, gather your Filipino friends together, and host your own drive. The National Marrow Donor Program will come to you for free and register everyone together. It's like having a party, except you're saving lives.
To set up a drive, contact:
Susan Podolsky
National Marrow Donor Program
612-884-8567
spodolsk@nmdp.org
Please give at least 1 week of advance notice.
Thank you so much for your help.
Christine'sStory
Originally Posted by godCode
Reply With Quote
Posting Permissions
