The Orange County Register (April 18, 2008) and the Los Angeles Jewish Journal (April 25, 2008) relate a heartwarming story of an American Kollel yungerman in Jerusalem whose bone marrow saved a California yeshiva bochur suffering from leukemia.
Yosef Eliezri's odyssey began in the summer of 2005. The son of a rav in Yorba Linda, CA and a talmid of theYeshiva in Morristown, N.J., Yosef, 21, was anticipating a trip to Lithuania to assist with outreach to the Jewish community of Vilnius. Eliezri had felt "fluish" for about a month prior to his departure and visited a doctor in New York just before leaving. The doctor said Eliezri had bronchitis. So despite his fever, Eliezri went ahead with his trip.
But he grew sicker and weaker with each day and soon went to a clinic, where doctors suspected -- but couldn't confirm -- that he had leukemia. Eliezri flew home and went straight from the airport to the UC Irvine Medical Center to see Dr. Leonard Sender, the medical director for both UC Irvine's Chao Family Comprehensive Cancer Center and the Cancer Institute at Children's Hospital - Orange County (CHOC), who had successfully treated his brother for cancer seven years earlier.
Within an hour, Dr. Sender had diagnosed Eliezri with acute myelogenous leukemia (AML), a fast-growing cancer of the blood and bone marrow. Less then two days later, Eliezri's condition severely deteriorated, and he was put on a ventilator to control his breathing. "He was extremely ill," Sender said. "We weren't sure if he would make it."
Doctors eventually stabilized Eliezri, and in the following months, he endured five rounds of chemotherapy and countless infections.
"One time I'd been in the hospital for seven weeks. I was going crazy. I didn't know when I was going to be released. It was like 12:30 at night and I was crying and praying to Hashem saying, 'I cannot handle this anymore. Please, please get me out of this place.' The next morning, and I wasn't expecting this, they released me."
By the spring of 2006, chemotherapy had knocked out the cancer. But within a few months, the leukemia returned. "The fact that it came back was very dangerous," Sender says. "It became critical that he find a match."
During Eliezri's chemotherapy, Sender wanted to identify a potential bone marrow donor in the event that the cancer recurred. Family members have a 30 percent chance of being compatible donors, but neither Eliezri's parents nor any of his five siblings were a match.
Sender contacted the National Marrow Donor Program, but none of the program's 7 million potential donors were compatible, either. However, through the program's partnership with registries around the world, two possible donors were identified by Ezer Mizion, the national bone marrow registry of Israel: Moshe Price and his sister.
The largest Jewish bone marrow registry in the world, Ezer Mizion includes more than 350,000 potential donors. The organization's registry has grown dramatically in recent years as a result of nationwide donor drives and voluntary testing routinely offered to new Israel Defense Forces recruits. However, only about 60 percent of those who contact the registry find a potential match, according to Ofra Konikoff, chief bone marrow transplant coordinator for Ezer Mizion.
Sender's fear came about in August, when he discovered that Eliezri's cancer had recurred. Bone marrow transplantation was Eliezri's only option.
Ezer Mizion contacted Price, 24, who underwent additional tests that confirmed his compatibility as a donor. Eliezri then began 10 days of conditioning chemotherapy and radiation, a brutal regimen designed to destroy his bone marrow and prepare the body to receive foreign cells.
On Oct. 18, physicians extracted bone marrow from Price's hip bone during a two-and-a half-hour procedure. The stem cell collection is usually done through aphaeresis, where the donor's blood is removed through a needle in one arm, passed through a machine that separates the stem cells from the other blood components and then returns the blood to the other arm.
A courier took the package of Price's cells directly to the airport and flew to California to deliver it to CHOC. Eliezri received the transplant on Oct. 19. He stared at the yellow tag dangling from the plastic bag feeding red bone marrow cells into his ravaged body, while nurses sung "Happy Birthday" to symbolize a new start for the young leukemia patient. His family davened and recited Tehillim.
Eliezri, in a fog from chemotherapy, wondered what stranger had donated this precious gift. He asked to see the tag, which read: Schneider Children's Medical Center of Israel. He imagined that his donor must be a soldier. The Israeli Army provides every soldier with literature on how to join Ezer Mizion's bone marrow registry, which has grown from 5,000 to 350,000 in a decade.
Eliezri spent 55 days in isolation, when only a few family members could visit. For the next six months, Eliezri experienced the chemotherapy induced pain and nausea, along with bouts of infections caused by graft vs. host disease, a common complication following bone marrow transplantation. However, he slowly began to recover.
"Generally, he's done really well. He's had an occasional setback, but the further out he gets, the better he's done," Sender said. "I tell him to enjoy life and make plans for the future." Eliezri has resumed his studies in Los Angeles in order to be closer to his family and his doctors.
According to international protocol, after one year, donor and recipient are allowed to communicate if each agrees. Eliezri finally learned his donor's name - Moshe Price.
In March 2008, they spoke on the phone for the first time - a two-hour conversation where they discovered many similarities. They are only a few years apart in age. Price is also frum and learns full time in a Kollel in Yerushalayim. As Eliezri had davened in his hospital bed for Price , Price, 24, had simultaneously davened for Eliezri at the Kosel in Yerushalayim.
Eliezri still wanted to thank Price in person. "The Gemara says someone who saves one life - it's as if he's saved the entire world. That's really how I feel. I'm overwhelmed." Price told him he planned to be on the East Coast to visit family for Pesach. So in April, the Eliezris flew Price and his wife, Tova, to Southern California. "The night before I hardly slept," Eliezri says. "I was very, very emotional."
When the two young men met for the first time, they embraced and wept. Eliezri repeatedly thanked Moshe over and over again. The Eliezris planned a trip to Disneyland for Price followed by a 100-person celebration dinner at their shul.
But first, they all rode the elevator to the oncology floor at CHOC. Eliezri wanted to show his donor exactly where the life-saving act happened and thank him before an audience of Dr. Sender, hospital staff and family. The hospital served the entourage a kosher chocolate cake. Eliezri spoke, turning to Price, who stood beside him.
"I don't think you'll ever understand the magnitude of what you've done. My only chance of living was a transplant. You've provided me that chance." Price, quiet and looking down, responded, "It's always a good feeling to know you can save someone's life. Anyone out there that has any doubts about it, I tell them, 'Don't worry, it's the best feeling.'" Price said he decided to join the registry after a publicity campaign by Ezer Mizion, Israel's donor agency. "I had sort of a dream to be a donor. I didn't think there would be a chance, but I hoped."
"It was amazing," Eliezri said about the experience of meeting Price. "It was one of the greatest days of my life. He is not only physically a perfect match but spiritually, also."
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