Meet Abbie, one of our Marrow volunteers
Marrow is our brilliant network of volunteer student groups. Up and down the UK, hundreds of volunteers at nearly 50 universities are busy recruiting new donors to the Anthony Nolan stem cell register and raising lifesaving funds.
For Student Volunteering Week, Abbie shared her own experience of going through two stem cell transplants and how it inspired her to make a difference with Marrow.
Abbie's story
I was diagnosed with aplastic anaemia when I was 16. I’d a few symptoms so I had blood tests one day after school and was woken up at 5am to an ambulance waiting outside. After more tests, we went in a room with three doctors who told us it was aplastic anaemia and that I needed a stem cell transplant. I was like a deer in the headlights going onto the ward. It had all happened so fast – you go from living a normal everyday life, to everything changing instantly.
Luckily, they found a match for me – a German donor who was willing to donate, and I had my transplant. They watched my cells every single day, but nothing was happening. After four weeks, I was told that I needed another transplant. It hadn’t worked. I was devastated.
I went home for five weeks, and they searched for another donor. I couldn't leave the house, all I did was go back into hospital for transfusions. Then, thankfully, they found another donor and I had my second transplant. I had to have a top of stem cells, because the second transplant wasn’t working either, but, finally, everything started to pick up.
Getting my life back
It had been 18 months since my diagnosis and I hadn't properly left the house, I hadn’t been at school, I hadn't seen my friends. Life had just been going to hospital. So, in the summer, when I started to feel better in myself, friends started coming to visit – it was during the pandemic and obviously I had to be careful, so we’d just sit at the opposite end of the garden, but it was nice. And things just gradually started to get better. I had my two Covid vaccines, so I could go back to school in the September. I ended up being put back a year, so all my friends were going to year 13 and I was going into year 12 of sixth form, which was hard at the time, but now I'm at uni, I feel like it doesn't matter.
Before this happened, I really wanted to be a vet but after I was like, ‘I think I might want to do medicine’. I didn't tell anyone at first, I only told my dad because I didn't want to make a big deal out of it and obviously getting into medicine is so hard. But I did get in and now I'm in my third year! It’s crazy to look back at how far I’ve come. I lost so much purpose. 18 months is a long time to not socialise or do things, and I think it took a while to find myself again. I feel like now I'm so settled and happy.
It's a lot to go through but I feel like it’s really built my confidence. I think being 16, the nurses really get to know you and you form a really good relationship with them, and that makes all the difference. My older sister was a huge help too, and my parents are like my best friends. I feel like we’ve got a bond forever from this experience. I’ve also connected with both of my donors. I really wanted them to know that I’m eternally grateful to them. I don't think words can ever do it justice - they saved my life. I celebrate my transplant birthday on the day of my second one - the 24th of July. We do something special every year. Last year we went to Edinburgh, and the year before I went to York, so we always go somewhere different to celebrate. My dad always says that it’s important than my normal birthday!
Helping others
When I went back to sixth form, I did some fundraising for Anthony Nolan and then when I got to uni I started volunteering with Marrow. Hull is quite a small uni, so we don’t have the big recruitment numbers that some other unis have but, to me, every sign-up is one potential life saved. So, even if I do a recruitment event and only one person signs up, it's worth it. I think it’s encouraging that I can say, ‘I had a stem cell transplant and I wouldn't be here without it’. I think it definitely helps motivate people. All my friends have signed up to the register too.
I enjoy being part of Marrow because I just think it's got such a community feel to it and I love doing the recruitment events and having people sign up. It's a little boost every time someone signs up. I love that it's student-based and the Anthony Nolan team are so supportive. I just think it's a good thing to do and I enjoy doing it. It’s horrible that some people don't have a match, so at least I can make other people more aware of the register and the difference they can make.
I also did the Great North Run for Anthony Nolan last year. It was such a hard run, but when I turned the corner at that roundabout and saw the Anthony Nolan team cheering it was like the biggest morale boost ever. I’m so glad I did it. I was hard but I think it's so worth it. I know that the money goes to such a good cause, that I'm so passionate about it. And also, it was an opportunity to raise awareness, as well as raising the money. Now I've got the running top, I'll always wear it just to represent the charity, and hopefully it makes someone look and think, ‘oh, I wonder what that is’ and end up joining the register.
There is hope
I just want to keep doing the best I can and be a doctor one day and make a difference. I’d like to go into paediatrics. The doctors and nurses made such a difference in my life, so I would love to go on and make a difference in someone else's life like that. You have to have empathy and put yourself in someone's shoes, and I feel like, as a patient, I really can put myself in their shoes because I've been there. So, I think that's quite a unique thing.
To anyone else going through this I’d say: It's really hard to see it now, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. I wish someone could have said that to me during my transplant. My dad would always say, ‘be positive, be positive, be positive’ and that made such a difference. So, try to stay positive and mentally strong - there is hope.