Dogs...Cats...Mass Hysteria

I had a lot of directions I could go with this blog post title. It's been one of those weeks where a whole lot of big things started to go down. In that "when it rains it pours" kind of way. "Raining and pouring" led to "dogs and cats" lead to...Ghostbusters. All roads lead to Ghostbusters. No? Well, they should.

I digress.

I had a good week. It started with breaking through a big professional hurdle. As a new agent, I've had a lot of firsts these 2 years, but I have many firsts still ahead of me. As the kind of person who wants to be kick-ass at her job, the fact that a few haven't happened IMMEDIATELY has been frustrating. But I'm also insanely impatient. And yet, it happened, and I'm thrilled.

And THEN a million other things started congealing (congealing? gross...) all at once. Another interesting professional development, and maybe a good personal one too. 

Like, what's WITH that? How can things be so mediocre or even crappy for so long with no sign of breaking, and then BAM! The universe starts handing you things. And then you realize, shockingly, you're happy. I almost don't want to say it for fear of jinxing it.

Mass hysteria, I tell you. 

Yearly Check-ups

I got the letter in the mail yesterday from the New York Blood Center telling me it's been 2 years since I donated bone marrow. I used to get a phone call. For the first six months afterward I got the phone call monthly. I guess at a year or two out, they would rather you call them to make sure you're still alive and that the "medical research trial" you were technically agreeing to didn't cause any lasting damage.

But every time I get one of these envelopes from them, I actually think they are going to tell me I matched someone else. I have only donated once (Only? you say) but I'd preliminarily matched 3 other times before the one that went through.

I'm a statistical anomaly. I like to credit my brilliant mixed genetic heritage. (Way to go, Eastern-European Ashkenazic Jewish father for marrying a mixed-breed, former-Protestant mother!)  

Most people on the registry don't ever match anyone. In theory, that means I got my one unlikely match out of the way. But there was a stretch in college where about once a year I got a call or a letter in the mail. So part of me feels that another bone marrow donation will be in my some point.

Also interesting? That 2 year mark of donating my stem cells is also about the two year mark of becoming an agent. A lot has happened since then. 2 years ago I lived in the East Village, thought I was on my way to getting married, and had no idea what living on commission really meant. 

It's weird what a letter showing up in the mail can make you think about.