Around the time we were preparing for me to leave the hospital, we learned that someone in town was following a somewhat parallel path. Her son was a teammate of Paul's on the high school soccer team, so we knew each other from the sidelines. She was diagnosed a week before I was. Like me, she was being treated in Chicago. If we had been in the same hospital, we would have been on the same corridor.
We spoke once by phone, after I was home and a few weeks before she was going to receive her own cells back again. Her treatments had been hard on her — multiple rounds of chemo and radiation. The week after her transplant, we learned from her husband she was doing OK but was tired and had a fever. A couple of weeks ago, she was doing better.
She died earlier this week. Wake and mass tomorrow.
I'm so sorry to learn about this family's loss. My thoughts are with Paul's teammate and his family.
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