When I was asked in junior high school who my idol was and who I was proud of, I always found television stars that gave me awe and excitement. Whether it was characters from my favorite TV shows or singers, I was really just into them, but I never saw any reason to be proud of the fact that I liked them.
High school turned everything upside down in that regard.
My younger brother got leukemia. The disease progressed rapidly in his little body, and the exhausting treatment didn’t help. My parents spent a lot of money on treatment and it didn’t seem to be paying off. We changed hospitals, cooperated with various foundations that helped with payment and the selection of doctors, but eventually everything led to the fact that my brother needed a bone marrow transplant.
My dad was a donor for him.
I know how the surgery went and how much pain my dad and my brother were in, but they both held their own.
Afterwards, my brother was on the mend. He still needed additional treatment and perpetual checks, but the long-awaited improvement followed, and that was very encouraging. And my dad suddenly discovered his desire to be a donor. He signed up at the center that took blood from donors and became a frequent visitor.
He’s been doing it for over three years now, finding some solace in it. He didn’t start out very active at first, but now donates blood monthly.
“I helped my son, but I can save someone else’s life, right?” – he says with a smile.
And it is these very words and actions of his that make me wait eighteen years to become a donor, too.
And now I would answer the question from junior high school very differently:
– My dad is my greatest pride and role model idol.
