Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, March 18, 1995 TAG: 9503200009
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-1 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: SALLY HARRIS CORRESPONDENT
DATELINE: RADFORD LENGTH: Long
After that, she said, she'll live for other milestones in his life. ``Everything I do, I do for him,'' she said.
Miller leaves March 25 for Seattle for a bone-marrow transplant. A match was found for her in Norway, and the new marrow is being flown to Seattle on the Concorde. She must stay in Seattle until Aug. 5 to be sure her body doesn't reject the transplant.
About a year ago, when she felt so tired her parents kept urging her to go to a doctor, Miller, now 30, ended up in the emergency room with a sharp pain in her side. She eventually was diagnosed with myeloid leukemia, a form controllable with pills instead of chemotherapy or radiation. ``Other than taking the pills, I'm not any different from anybody else,'' she said. She had heard of people being cured of leukemia, and that kept her from being too scared.
But the pills as a treatment eventually would become ineffective, she learned. ``They could work a month or they could work 10 years, but it will happen at some point,'' she said. So the search for a bone-marrow donor began with her brothers and parents.
``I found out in August that there wasn't anybody in the family that matched well enough,'' Miller said. A search of the bone-marrow registry turned up three potential donors last October. ``That was like a weight lifted off my shoulders,'' she said. ``It made Christmas better.''
In February, doctors gave the go-ahead for scheduling the procedure. To be most effective, it must be done in the first year after diagnosis, before there has been too much cell damage from medication.
On April 4, Miller will arrive at the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center, affiliated with the University of Washington in Seattle. After extensive radiation and chemotherapy to destroy her own immune system so the new one can take over, she will have the transplant April 25.
In the meantime, Miller has been telling anyone who will listen about the importance of the bone-marrow registry. ``I don't think many people in this area are very aware of it, and I want them to know how important it is to sign up,'' she said. ``It's something someone can do for someone else. It's the kind of transplant where no one has to die. They're not giving an organ, Just a little bone marrow. They may be sore for a few days, but it won't harm them.''
The American Red Cross held a bone-marrow drive in Radford in November, and about 115 people showed up, Miller said.
She's thankful for the person in Norway who is donating bone marrow to her. That person will go to a regional center in Norway and the bone marrow will be extracted. After 24 to 48 hours observation, the person will go home. All expenses for the donor will be paid by Miller's insurance, which will cover most of her own medical expenses.
But Miller feels bad for people who search the registry every day without finding a suitable donor. ``They had to go to another country to find someone for me, but I think if enough people in this country signed up, they wouldn't have to do that.''
When the realization first sinks in that you have leukemia and need a bone-marrow transplant, Miller said, ``You get apprehensive and you get scared because you don't know if anyone in the family will match. And when you find out they don't, you get scared and think 'what if there's no one out there?'"
Without a transplant, Miller's life expectancy would be between two and five years, ``and maybe not that long,'' she said. With the transplant, she could be pronounced free of the leukemia after five years without a recurrence. ``If I get to the two-year mark, I have a good percentage of a chance,'' she said. ``It goes up each year.''
Miller, a secretary in the Recreation and Leisure Services Department at Radford University, will drive across country with her father, Walter Miller, taking the southern route to avoid any late-winter weather. On the way, they will stop in Amarillo at a horse museum.
``I love to ride horses,'' she said.
She looks forward to driving through all-adobe Santa Fe, N.M., through Los Angeles and Southern California, and through Oregon, as well as possibly visiting a cousin in Berkeley, Calif., en route to Seattle. ``It's an opportunity to see the country,'' she said. ``If I have to have this done, I'll take advantage of all my opportunities.''
Her father will stay with her until the end of May, when her mother, Cora Miller, her son, Josh, and her brothers, Phillip and Ross, will go to Seattle. Her brothers and father will come back to Virginia after about a week, but her mother and son will remain until her father and brother fly back in August and they all drive home together.
Until Josh can go to Seattle, he will stay with his baby sitter, Joyce Huffman, during the week and with Miller's mother on weekends. ``The thought of leaving him two months is bothering me, but knowing he'll come out the end of May makes me feel better,'' she said.
Miller is grateful, too, for the many people who have helped her so far. Her hometown community of Willis held a dinner to raise money for travel and living expenses for the four months she must stay in Seattle, much of the time in a rented apartment. She is also grateful to everybody at the Cancer Center of Southwest Virginia in Roanoke and at its Christiansburg branch, her baby sitter, her colleagues and her supportive family. ``I think if you have a strong, supportive family, that's about half the battle,'' she said.
People don't realize how lucky they are when they have good health, Miller said. ``Some people get depressed about money, etc., but money is nothing without health.''
She realizes some people have to go through even more than she will have to endure. ``But I'll do anything to stay alive to see Josh grow up,'' she said.
When she has down times, she rides her exercise bike or plays with Josh or takes him somewhere. ``I get down, but then I just get out of it,'' she said.
by CNB