GODSTUFF

FOR ONE FAMILY, HOPE MIGHT BE IN YOUR BONES

Eighteen months ago, the Kalicky family gave me hope.

Now, I’d like to return the favor.

I met Kim and Tom Kalicky and their children just before Thanksgiving 2006, when Tom wrote me an encouraging e-mail after reading a column I’d written about my mother’s breast-cancer diagnosis.

The Kalickys are born-again Christians, and they wanted to make sure I didn’t turn my back on God because of my terror over Mom’s cancer. They wanted to remind me of how much we are loved by God, that there is always hope, and joy.

I received a lot of kind notes after my mother learned she had cancer and would have to undergo a double mastectomy. (And for all of you who continue to ask after Mom, she’s doing beautifully, fully recovered and cancer-free. Thank God.)

There was something different about the Kalickys’ e-mail. It came from a place the Christian writer Henri Nouwen (and Carl Jung before him) would call the “wounded healer.” The Kalickys knew about clinging to faith through despair because they were living it.

Since 2004, Kim, a 40-year-old nurse and mother of four — who, with her blithe spirit, tiny frame and sweet, childlike voice, is a bit like Tinkerbell in real life — has been battling Hodgkins lymphoma. Tom, a Chicago Fire Department paramedic, had been out of work for a couple of years with a back injury.

The family was facing bankruptcy. Kim had just undergone a stem-cell transplant (using her own stem cells) and was cancer-free, but she was weak, and her health remained fragile. Then, the bank repossessed her car four days before Thanksgiving. Oy.

Despite their considerable woes, the Kalickys were remarkably feisty and positive, so much so that they reached out to a stranger (me) to offer moral support. Back in November 2006, Tom sent me a note that said, in part, “I just have to remember [God] loves me, cares for me and wants what is best for me, even if I don’t see it now or have a clear picture of the big picture.”

I wondered how they would feel about God’s love and the big picture when I heard earlier this year that Kim’s cancer had returned. She had surgery in November 2007, but doctors were not able to remove a tumor near her clavicle bone because it was too close to her jugular vein. More tumors were found along her spinal column.

Beginning (despite her protestations) before Christmas, Kim endured several rounds of chemotherapy. Monday through Thursday, she worked regular shifts as a nurse at Rush University Medical Center and, on Fridays, reported to Loyola University Medical Center for chemo. Her last session was March 22.

Kim says her doctors believe the tumors had shrunk enough that she is ready for the next step: a stem-cell transplant. The ideal donor would be a male family member. Kim’s two brothers were tested. One was not a match. The other was, but unforeseen complications arose.

The Kalickys, who were so very gracious to this particular stranger 18 months ago, now must rely on the kindness of strangers to help save Kim’s life.

From 6:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. Wednesday at the Loyola Center for Health and Fitness in Maywood, the National Marrow Donor Program will hold a bone-marrow drive on behalf of Kim and several others. It’s part of a national effort called “Thanks Mom Donor Drive.”

It’s painless. You show up, fill out some paperwork and have your cheek swabbed for a tissue sample that is analyzed and put into a national database for bone marrow or blood cell matches. Or you can register online (they send you an at-home swab kit). I did, and it took about five minutes.

Thousands of people are waiting for bone marrow. Even if Kim doesn’t find a match Wednesday, someone else might.

Lately, Kim is tired and in some pain. But her miraculously sunny disposition and stubborn faith remain.

“I don’t think I’ve lost any faith at all. In fact, I think it’s making me stronger,” Kim told me Monday. “Sometimes, I get upset because every time I think something’s better, something else comes up. . . . It’s sneaky. Your lymph nodes are all over the place. It’s like that [carnival] game — I’m playing Whack-a-Mole, dammit. One pops up, and I hit it. Another pops up, and I just hit it again.

“I think God has a plan for us before we’re even born, and this is the one I’m going down. My doctor was injecting me today, and he said some people have this thing about them like soldiers do in the war, where they’re just determined to get through this. I think I’m one of those people.”

For more information on becoming a bone-marrow donor, visit www.marrow.org or call (800) MARROW-2.