What couriering means to me
I’ve been couriering for Anthony Nolan for ten years now, and I still have to pinch myself that it really is me sitting there with lifesaving blood stem cells in the Credo box between my feet.
For me, it’s about people.
We couriers are always thinking of the patient waiting for us to arrive with the stem cells that could give them another chance to live. And we thank the donors because without them, none of this would happen.
But it’s also about the people on trains who ask, “What’s in that box?” — and their amazement when I explain what I’m doing and how stem cell transplants work. We know we’ll probably never meet again, and yet we end up sharing life experiences and funny little stories.
Every courier has had that heart-stopping moment where someone comes up and says, “Hi, I just want to thank you for what you’re doing. I had a stem cell transplant five years ago and I’m doing well. I just wanted you to know that.”
Or sometimes, more sadly, they tell me their loved one had a transplant and it didn’t work for them. But they still thank me and thank Anthony Nolan for what we do.
The people you meet along the way
It’s about the pilots and airline crew, who do their utmost to help me disembark quickly so I can catch that last train north. And the crew who bring me endless cups of freshly brewed tea on a long-haul flight.
It’s about the unlikely friendships you make.
There was one occasion where I finally got into a cab around midnight, heading for the transplant centre, and the driver said, without turning his head: “Oh, it’s you again! Still saving lives, are we?”. Then, he told me his daughter had had her baby, that she was planning on going back to university, and how proud he and his wife were.
No two trips are ever the same
There’s always an adrenaline buzz. No two trips are ever the same.
It’s about having a plan, while knowing there always needs to be room for last-minute changes. Always have a Plan B.
I have a “leaving home” checklist stuck to my door. My nightmare is leaving home with my passport, documentation and toothbrush — but forgetting the ice packs. For me, it’s also reminding myself to slow down and stop chattering while cross-checking ID numbers during handover at the collection centre.
I tell myself to take a beat when a new airport security agent insists the Credo box with the stem cells in it has to go through the X-ray machine, even after reading the documents explaining that this isn’t permitted. And then, on the other hand, sometimes border police will carefully carry the Credo box over to me, handling it with touching respect.
The journey - and what makes it worth it
People ask whether the travel isn’t exhausting, with cancellations, delays and different time zones. Well yes, I do rather collapse when I finally get home. But nothing beats the satisfaction of handing over the stem cells and being told the transplant will still take place that same day.
And I happen to love people-watching; watching people stream through doors in airports and stations, all heading somewhere. I’m watching time moving, like sand in an egg timer.
All the while, I’m anxiously watching my departure gate display too, seeing my flight delayed by yet another 15 minutes!
Moments I’ll never forget
As for personal highlights? There have been many.
Standing at the top of the Empire State Building and visiting the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.
Going fly fishing with two local fishermen on the banks of the Grand River in Grand Rapids, though I should stress that I did not fish from out in the rapids. One develops a sense of what is just a little too dangerous for a courier to do.
As an Aussie, having the opportunity to be back home is always wonderful. Walking through the old botanical gardens overlooking Sydney Harbour. Hearing that distinctive pedestrian crossing chirp that only Australians recognise.
And in Brisbane, trail walking in the Mt Coot-Tha Reserve. Out in the bush, in the heat, with the gum trees and carolling magpies, every Aussie knows not to step on twigs and branches, because twigs and branches can be snakes sunning themselves. Well, on that particular day, two of those “twigs” slithered away into the bushes!
And all the while, I’m talking to people and raising awareness about what Anthony Nolan does and about what we couriers do.
I am the luckiest lady alive to be able to do all this.