It was the third day after receiving the stem-cell stimulant, and I went into class still carrying some heaviness in my pelvis and back. Then suddenly a call came saying I had to go into a shared room. Honestly, a shared room itself I could see happening, but of all things it was a shared room where there were female patients. I was rather curious whether those patients had consented, and since — if my condition was fine after the cell collection — I intended to solve and record CSAT problems right away, I had no idea whether it could be such a place. Of course, I'd have no choice in the matter, so after passing along the coordinator's phone number, I steeled myself.
As the time to arrive at the hospital drew near, my mind moved quite busily. Now and then I get something like a high degree of stress about being punctual, and I think this was exactly such an example. A kind of tension you feel when you have to be somewhere on time? When going somewhere new, I came along just hurrying because I hate being late. With hurried steps, and
Old thoughts keep coming back.
I believe the impetus for my stem cell donation was God. Even I — who, while attending church, didn't properly believe in the mysteries of faith — think that day was Heaven's will. Well, it was God, and from the view of Eastern philosophy it could also be seen as 'Heaven's will.' The day I resolved to donate stem cells was the day I went to Myeongdong Cathedral, my heart heavy after returning from abroad. It was early March, and the reason I went to Myeongdong Cathedral then was that life at school was so agonizing. It may have been all the more so because that was exactly the period when, after the breakup in England, every single day I wanted to die and the anguish never stopped. I'd been left alone at school and was in a situation where it was hard to find any refuge for my heart, so the anguish... didn't easily disappear. In the midst of that there was Mass, so that day I finished Mass shedding tears, and once my emotions had settled a little, the place I went was the basement of Myeongdong Cathedral. I don't know if it's still there; it was 2016 then, but no matter how I search for a photo to attach as a reference, no photo comes up. In any case, in that underground plaza I idled away the time and then applied to donate. In front of a person I was seeing for the first time in my life, I had blood drawn and a bandage applied. I never imagined that the bandage I had applied then would lead to today's bandage.
In truth, my feelings about this stem cell donation are occupied, in large part, by recollection of those memories rather than regret or fear. Because a choice I made in the moment I felt was the hardest of my life is only now, in the present, having its effect. I don't really know how I resolved my hardship at the time. But I do believe that then I found peace of mind from God, and I had the feeling that I, too, ought to live repaying it by doing something. I believed the world is something we should change — the things we can help with or change by taking part. Now that's been somewhat broken, and
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