ROANOKE TIMES 
                      Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times

DATE: Thursday, April 3, 1997                TAG: 9704040088
SECTION: NEIGHBORS                PAGE: N-8  EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: BETSY BIESENBACH SPECIAL TO THE ROANOKE TIMES 


SALEM WOMAN FINDS SPECIAL FRIEND IN DEFEATING LEUKEMIA

An English truck driver donated the bone marrow that saved Melissa Tickle's life.

On March 27, 1992 Melissa Tickle of Salem was pronounced cured of the leukemia that threatened her life.

"It's a big landmark," Tickle said of the recent five-year anniversary. "There's very little chance for a relapse."

It was Jim Lydle's bone marrow that saved Tickle's life. Lydle, who lives in Thetford, England, met Tickle for the first time about a year after the operation. Last week, they came together again to celebrate Melissa's victory over her illness.

Tickle, who is now 25, was diagnosed with chronic myelocytic leukemia in 1991. She was told her only hope for a cure was a bone marrow transplant. But when the University of Virginia hospital was unable to find a donor who matched her tissue type, they told her there was nothing more they could do.

But Tickle and her family refused to accept the news. They contacted the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center in Seattle, which pioneered bone marrow transplant techniques. Using an international marrow donor registry, the center found Lydle, now 42. He was a truck driver living in a town in eastern England about the same size as Salem.

Genetically speaking, Lydle, who signed up at the urging of his wife, Janice, is more closely related to Tickle than her own brother. (i yanked this because bone marrow isn't related to "genetic" makeup-jw)

Tickle's type of leukemia is almost always fatal without a bone marrow transplant. For those who undergo the operation, there is a 60 percent to 65 percent success rate.

For Lydle, being able to help Tickle "was the greatest thing that ever happened to me."

Although she went through a tough adjustment period and rejected her new marrow several times, Tickle was no longer taking any medication by 1994.

For her five-year checkup - which would determine whether she was cured - her doctors were so confident about her condition that they allowed her to send them a sample of her marrow rather than have her travel to Seattle for the test.

Tickle and Lydle say the transplant has created a special bond between them. Their first meeting was extremely emotional, and they have phoned and written to each other frequently since then.

Now the Lydles and their 9-year old daughter, Sarah, and Tickle and her parents, Noah and Blanche, "feel like one family," Lydle said.

For Lydle, being able to help Tickle "was the greatest thing that ever happened to me."

Although the Lydles had always hoped to come back to visit, they hadn't planned on being here for the fifth anniversary of the transplant, Janice Lydle said. "It just fell together."

Unfortunately, the Lydles didn't get to see Tickle until halfway through their visit.

In May, Tickle will graduate from Radford University with a degree in nursing, and the Lyles arrived while she was preparing for exams.

Although Tickle once dreamed of being a commercial pilot - she already has her license - she has decided to devote her life to helping people with leukemia.

"I feel like a lot of people gave me so much when I was sick, I wanted to give something back," she said.

In addition to her studies, Tickle is a regular visitor to the Bone Marrow Transplant Support Group, which she helped establish shortly after she was diagnosed. The group meets at the Lewis-Gale Columbia Medical Center on the third Wednesday of each month. Several other members have already undergone successful transplants, Tickle said.

Lydle has given up truck driving and now works in a warehouse. His friends at home know all about Tickle.

"Everyone asks how she's getting on," he said.

He is willing to donate his marrow again, should someone else need it. "I've been waiting" for a call, he said.

Both Tickle and Lydle feel their lives have been changed by their experience together.

For Tickle, her illness has given her a new perspective on life. "It keeps me from feeling sorry for myself," she said.

For Lydle, thinking about Tickle's courage and having followed her through her ordeal gives him the strength to face his own problems.

"I know I can get through anything, after that," he said.

Neither of them thinks the other's appearance has changed much since they last met.

"I've got more hair," Tickle said.

"And I've got less," Lydle said.


LENGTH: Medium:   89 lines
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO:  Jim Lydle and Melissa Tickle phone and write each other 

frequently.

by CNB