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ROCHESTER, Minn. (AP) — Frames on the walls and scrapbooks hold pictures of what might not have been for Laura Evans: life beyond June 2008.
There are pictures of Evans and her husband, Ryan, celebrating their one-year wedding anniversary, spending time with people she considers her second family, and pictures taken at weddings she's attended, the Post-Bulletin (http://bit.ly/22HC2fS ) reported. On June 18, 2009, Evans received a life-saving bone marrow transplant. Without the transplant, the frames on her walls and the scrapbook celebrating five years of life after the transplant would not be filled with so many big smiles.
"That would never have happened," Evans said of a picture taken at her brother's wedding. "All of those memories would not have been there."
Also framed is the first letter Evans received from Carin Harrison, the marrow donor who saved her life. She keeps it hung in her room. "She's special to me," said Evans. "She'll forever be."
"It was actually just a fluke," said Harrison. One day, back in 1996, she arrived at work early, in the Saint Louis University Hospital. People working with the National Bone Marrow Donor Registry (NBMDR, now known as Be The Match) had set up a temporary spot in a big room next to the elevators Harrison took that day. They were providing information and were taking blood samples. She signed up then to become a part of the registry. "Had I not been early for work that day, or had I been off that day, this would not have happened. It was the only time they came."
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Evans was first diagnosed with aplastic anemia when she was in fifth grade. She'd been in remission for years. But June 2008, the month of her wedding, was when she had what she called her "really hardcore diagnosis of it." Her doctors did what they could to get her through her wedding and honeymoon. "When I came back, I was needing platelets," Evans said. "I had OK levels for a month, and then it crashed."
Evans was at such high risk for infection that her doctors decided a donor should be found three months into her illness.
Evans was in her early 20s. She wanted to do one cycle of collecting and freezing eggs in case she wanted to have children. "They wanted the transplant to be in April," Evans said. "I had to wait until my next cycle." Tending to those wishes pushed back the transplant.
In 2008, Harrison found out she was a potential match and was contacted for testing. Twelve years had passed. She had moved to Sweden. To find her, NBMDR first contacted her mother-in-law. Once they learned she was in Sweden, they connected with the Swedish version of the registry. Harrison was standing in her front yard, linked by a bad cell phone connection, when she was told that she was a match for someone in the United States.
"The actual donation was easy," said Harrison. "I came the night before, made sure I wanted to do this, signed papers, got prepped. Did an EKG again. Very easy. I was put under for a couple of hours. By the time I woke up, they were already on the plane."
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All Harrison required after waking up from anesthesia was a couple of Band-Aids and a couple of Advil. "I was working in my garden the week after," she said. "I was not in any pain at all."
"There's a behind-the-scenes part of the transplant," said Evans's mom, Terry Bauer. "The person who came from Sweden to America — they took care of this precious bone marrow for us."
"The nurses were like, 'Holy cow, that's a lot,'" said Evans about their reaction to the amount of marrow her donor had supplied. "Your donor is awesome."
Before the transplant process began, Evans requested a moment to give thanks. "I just want to stop and give thanks to my donor," Evans told them.
"I had normal counts for the first time in a long time," said Evans. "Without the transplant. I would have died. I would have died within a couple of months."
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Recently, Evans had the opportunity to meet and spend time with Harrison, who was visiting Rochester for the first time. The two, along with Bauer, were sitting in Evans' living room on a Friday afternoon as the snow started falling.
"She thinks what she did was no big deal," said Evans, gesturing to Harrison. "She doesn't think it's a big deal."
"For me, it was a little thing," said Harrison. "It wasn't a big deal."
"It's been a crazy ride," said Evans. "The thing we always laugh about — I never used to like chocolate. After my transplant I was obsessed, craving chocolate. There is research out there. You get your donor's likes and dislikes."
"She was always vanilla and yellow cake," Bauer said of her daughter's preferences.
"I've always been chocolate and licorice," said Harrison.
The chocolate preference was one of the first things Evans asked Harrison about when they were finally able to speak, five years after the transplant. Sweden doesn't allow the exchange of donor and recipient information until after five years. A donor's information is only given to recipients if the donor consents.
"My hope is to get to Sweden in the next one to two years," said Evans. "You're more likely to match people of your heritage. I am mainly German and a little bit Swedish."
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