Jacquelyn Buckley had just finished her Masters in Counseling Psychology, gotten married and was planning for a family when she was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia. She now writes a blog to inspire other cancer patients and speaks of her journey.

October 4, 2008 was my fairytale day… I was marrying the love of my life and couldn’t wait to start this new chapter. My husband and I decided that we wanted to try and start a family right away. I had just finished my Masters degree in Counseling Psychology one year before, and we both had stable jobs. We were ready to conquer the world together and do everything that we could in life. Little did we know that that dream would be short lived.

June 3, 2009 our fairytale life, the life that we were so much enjoying was done. The dreams, plans, and experiences that we had wished so hard for were now distant memories. I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML) and if I didn’t start chemotherapy immediately, I would no doubt only have a few months left. We also discovered shortly after diagnosis that I was pregnant. All of a sudden this bad dream turned into a nightmare.

We both felt in some way we were being punished, but why? My professional title of ‘Psychiatric Counselor’ was now finished, my house title as ‘wife’ was done too… and the title that I prayed and wished so hard for, which was ‘mommy’ was completely destroyed. I was now ‘Patient in Room 713’ or ‘The young woman with cancer”. Not the title that I had dreamed of or worked so hard in life for.

We were also told that in order for my AML to be put into remission, I would need a stem cell transplant. The hunt for my donor match was now in full effect. Since I had no siblings, we looked to the community and the National Bone Marrow Registry to find someone. We had blood drive after blood drive in hopes that someone would be my match. My wonderful oncologist told my husband and parents that we “will” find a match. He promised. Finally, we found three matches. Although none of them were a perfect match, they were as close as we could find. And so the process began.

My husband was at my bedside daily. He brought me meals, watched television with me, and played cards, basically putting his entire life on hold. After my induction chemotherapy, all of my long, blonde hair fell out. I was bald, not a lick of hair on my body. The drugs made me sick and most of the time I could barely hold a thought together, often hallucinating and being so drugged that all I could do would be to sleep. At times, I was even unable to keep my bodily functions in check.

I had my stem cell transplant on August 5, 2010 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The chemotherapy leading up to the transplant, along with weekly spinal taps, and bone marrow biopsies were grueling. It was difficult on everyone during this time. The pain was unbearable and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

A few days after my transplant, I developed Posterior Reversible Encephalopathy Syndrome (PRES) which causes hallucinations, seizures, eye disorders, and ultimately death. Luckily mine was caught in time, but still has caused neurological impairments leading it to be even more difficult to have an intelligent conversation. The wife that my husband knew wasn’t there.

On top of all of the medical issues, I needed more chemotherapy to make sure that all of the cancerous cells were gone and that my new donor cells were finding their home in my body. I was violently ill from these medications, and things just seemed to be going in the wrong direction. At times, my parents and I would discuss what was looking like a very poor future.

When I was finally able to come home from the hospital, things were different. Everything had to be disinfected, I couldn’t eat the majority of any foods, I couldn’t climb steps, etc. I had to have 24/7 care which happened to be my grandmother two days, my mom, my dad, and the rest of the days fell on my husband. We couldn’t go out anywhere without wearing a mask, which meant curious stares from others. My face was inflated bigger than a birthday balloon, and my head was still as bald as a baby’s bottom. Truth be told, I was anything but attractive. Our sex life was non-existent, whether it was out of fear of hurting me or the tubes that protruded from my chest. Either way, it was very uncomfortable and eventually turned into a quick kiss goodnight instead of any passion.

I am thankful to say that I have been in remission from cancer for 16 months, although I continue to struggle daily with medical issues. Some days are better than others, but I still find myself sad and often feeling a sense of survivor’s guilt. As difficult as these last 2 ½ years have been, I have changed not only in a positive light but have also gained a sense of self confidence and self worth.

If I can help even one person in this world, in some way, then everything that I have gone through is all worth it. Thanks for reading my story and please check out my blog here.