Congratulations are in order!

A little over a week ago, I had the chance to participate in The B+ Foundation’s 7^th Annual 5K. If you know me, you know that running isn’t my thing, and I usually don’t choose to do it in my free time. As I had quite a distance to run and I’m a slow runner, I had a lot of time to think. This story is relevant I promise.

During a long run like that, you get tired out. If you’re an inexperienced runner, like myself, you might not be able to figure out how to pace yourself. You may get tempted to slow down or even walk. In addition to that, when you’re running a 5K and you don’t know the area, you find yourself unsure of the path ahead of you. There are bumps and hills and twists. There are downhill slopes and curves and forks in the path. You don’t know about any of these obstacles until you come across them, and it is in that exact moment that you have to decide what to do about them. All this time, you trust the people in front of you; you find comfort in knowing that they understand what you are going through. Along the way, you learn to pace yourself along with them and to draw from their strength. Even though you may not know them, you’re positive that they know the right way and that they will lead you to the finish line.

Do you see how it’s relevant now? Mason’s journey has been like a 5K. Though he has had to fight through much more than some steep climbs and curves, he has overcome obstacles just the same. Like inexperienced runners with no knowledge of the area they are running in, Mason did not know much about leukemia when that horn sounded, signaling the beginning of his race. There are times when he got tired and times when he was in pain, but he didn’t give up; there was never a day that my little brother dared to stop. Like runners in a 5K, he had no choice of the path ahead of him, but he trusted those who had done it before. He took courage from those who were going through the same thing, and he drew strength and encouragement from his many fans and cheerleaders on the sidelines, offering him water at all of the checkpoints and more. He trusted the doctors who knew the path backwards and forwards, left and right. He believed that though he might be unsure of all of those curves and bumps and hills, the doctors would steer him in the right direction to that finish line, which is exactly what they have done.

Though Mason had posted saying he would be discharged on Sunday, his neutrophils were not cooperating. His absolute neutrophil count, or ANC, is the number we needed to reach and surpass 200 on Sunday for him to leave. These white blood cells, however, had a different plan for him. They played little games with all of us; their numbers were on a rollercoaster of their own, going up and down, up and down. Over the past couple of days, they had been on an upward climb. Today is Day 21 of the transplant, and it seems only fitting for his neutrophils to wait until today to jump all the way from 190 to 270. Everyone knows that 21 is Mason’s baseball number. It also happens to be the day he got diagnosed, 2/1. Kind of gives you chills doesn’t it?

Today Mason will be discharged from Johns Hopkins and will take up residence in a hotel nearby the hospital. For the next few weeks, he has to live within 15 minutes of Johns Hopkins so that he can get to all of his outpatient appointments, which are frequent during the week, and also in case of emergency. Mason has allowed his doctors, family and friends, and God lead him to the finish line of a race on an unknown course when he had no idea how to pace himself or what obstacles to expect. He didn’t slow down or stop to walk or tie his shoes, and he ran through those cramping muscles. Mason ran his heart out and will continue to do so until he reaches that finish line, his Emerald City.