Somewhere in the U.S., a 52-year-old man sat waiting, hoping a random person somewhere in the world might be able to save his life.
Leukemia was killing him, and he was in need of a bone marrow transplant — without it, he’d likely die.
Meanwhile, in suburban Seattle, Michael Cizek’s phone lit up with an unknown number. On the other end, an unfamiliar voice announced that the 20-year-old University of Florida junior might be able to donate bone marrow to this unnamed 52-year-old man. He was told there was a 30 percent chance he was a match.
Despite having no idea what this man looked like, Cizek saw his 51-year-old father.
“I can’t imagine a world without my dad right now,” he said. “So if I have the opportunity to save someone else’s dad, that’s really cool and I hope that if someone were in the same shoes as me, that they’d be willing to save my dad.”
Cizek, who served as the student “Mr. Two Bits” before UF’s 2015 football game against East Carolina, headed to a local clinic to have his arm pricked and his blood siphoned for further testing.
“I was kinda curious if this was all worth it,” he said. “Like, man, all these needles and it probably won’t happen. Seventy percent chance it won’t happen.”
It happened.
Only about one in 430 registry members will donate, according to Be The Match Bone Marrow Registry, and Cizek now had a chance to be that one.
“I was astounded and amazed and, quite frankly, surprised,” he said. “I really didn’t think that I would be a match with anyone.”
***
Cizek’s journey started with a Q-tip.
Walking out of the Reitz Union in November 2015, the former UF Preview staffer was confronted by one of his former students. The student was representing the Gift of Life Bone Marrow Registry and asked if Michael had time to be added to the list of donors.
All he had to do was stick an ear-cleaning device in his mouth, jiggle his cheeks around and seal his cell samples.
He agreed without hesitation, not thinking much of it.
“I knew that if the time ever came I might do something,” he said, “but I didn’t think that time would ever come.”
The time came quickly, in early May 2016. But after the blood tests confirmed he was a match, there were complications.
His sister, Alexandra, was due to graduate from Everett, Washington’s Cascade High School soon, and he didn’t want to miss her speech. He also didn’t want the procedure to interfere with his internship at Fisher Investments. Gift of Life only operates at hospitals in the northeast, so maneuvering would be difficult.
Not knowing if the dates would work out, he took a phone call from donation coordinator Hildy Bell to try and get the details straight. When he got on the phone, he didn’t know if he’d be having the procedure.
When he hung up, his plane ticket to the District of Columbia for his pre-operative physical was being purchased. He was headed out the next day with his flight, food and hotel paid for by Gift of Life.
“He was surprised of course,” Bell said of Cizek being selected to donate. She said that throughout the process, though, he remained calm and was excited to be able to do good.
With logistical concerns taken care of, there was just one more area to address. Cizek’s family was apprehensive.
“The idea of your child going into surgery with general anesthesia — it’s scary,” his mother, Janice Cizek, said.
“I wasn’t against it, but we were cautiously approaching the situation.”
Even then, she knew her son could make the decision himself, and that he’d make the right one.
“It’s not every day that you have the opportunity to save someone’s life, to save someone’s world,” he said.
***
Cizek and his mother embarked on their cross-country journey on Wednesday, June 8, culminating in his procedure the next day. A deeply Christian family, the two turned to God for strength.
But the focus of Cizek’s prayers wasn’t himself; he wasn’t asking God to look over him or to bless the doctors who would be jamming a pair of needles into his back. Instead, he said he was concerned with the man who he may never meet, but whose life he may save.
“God teaches us to give to the poor,” he said, “and in this instance, it’s not as literal as money, but this man was very poor in health. He’s not doing good, and without any treatment, he’s not gonna stick around.”
He continued: “And me, I’m healthy. I’m young. I’m very rich in my health, and so I was led to believe that this was an opportunity to share that richness.”
His concerns carried over to the night before his procedure. Even though he had to wake up at 5:30 a.m. — which felt like 2:30 because of jet lag — he laid awake in his bed at the Georgetown Suites Hotel. And once again, it wasn’t because he was nervous.
“What is this gonna do for this man?” he remembers wondering. “Is this gonna work? Is this all worth it?”
***
When Cizek arrived in the operating room at MedStar Georgetown University Hospital, he was still fully conscious. All around him, doctors and nurses swirled.
He said he remembers the temperature plummeting as soon as he was wheeled through the door and parked next to the table. Then he remembers a mask being pressed on his face. Then he remembers waking up.
During the surgery, doctors were responsible for removing as much bone marrow as possible. This is done by shoving two needles into a person’s lower back until they pierce the bone. From there, the marrow is sucked into a syringe. This may happen several times.
And when Cizek woke up, he felt the pain that came with the holes in his bone. But even then, he said it was a two on a 10-point scale. It never got worse.
“He wasn’t in pain,” his mother said. “He didn’t take any of the pain medicine.”
Michael recovered quickly enough to leave the hospital that afternoon — in a wheelchair — and headed back to the hotel. By the next day, he was strolling down the bank of the Potomac River and exploring Arlington National Cemetery.
“I was just astounded that the day before I had been in surgery and here I am walking around with all these tourists,” he said.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the country — maybe in back in Seattle, maybe in Maine, Florida or right there in the District of Columbia — a man was receiving his stem cells.
“Now we have to pray that it works,” his mother remembers him saying, “and that it helps this person and solves their problem.”
***
The only physical evidence left from the surgery is a pair of bumps on Cizek’s back. The only question left is what happened to the man who received the donation.
It’s a question Cizek said he aches to know the answer to. And in the coming weeks, he will.
As soon as the man’s doctors have an update on his condition, they’ll report them to the Gift of Life. Even then, donors and recipients can’t communicate using names for one full year, according to Be The Match.
But there are three things Cizek might hear.
At best, the man is alive and the transplant took root. It’s supposed to work by taking the place of the man’s own bone marrow, which was killed by chemotherapy and radiation treatments.
At worst, the man is dead. And in the middle, the man is alive but the transplant failed. If that’s the case, it’s possible Cizek will be asked to donate again. If he is, his answer is obvious.
“To be able to give life back to someone’s father, someone’s husband, someone’s co-worker, someone’s friend — it’s quite an amazing experience,” he said.
Michael Cizek
