Allogeneic transplants: patients tell their story

In 5 seconds Stem-cell transplants give patients a restored immune system—and a new lease on life. Federal cabinet minister Dominic LeBlanc and Mai Duong, founder of Swab the World,* share their stories.
Dominic LeBlanc and Mai Duong

Dominic LeBlanc: “The transplant team supported me through the most difficult period of my life”

Dominic LeBlanc is in good shape. On a visit to Montreal, the federal cabinet minister was keen to meet with us at Maisonneuve-Rosemont Hospital, affiliated with Université de Montréal, to share his story and thank the care team that treated him. Here’s what he told us:

I consider myself extremely lucky. When I look back on what I went through, I know the outcome could have been completely different.

In April 2019, I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma, a rare type of blood cancer. Two years earlier, I had overcome chronic lymphocytic leukemia. At Dr. Georges-L.-Dumont University Hospital Centre, New Brunswick’s largest French-language hospital, the doctors had to keep adjusting the treatments as we went along. Fortunately, the chemotherapy worked. That was the prerequisite for considering a transplant.

My hematologist-oncologist in Moncton referred me to Maisonneuve-Rosemont Hospital, in east-end Montreal, where Dr. Sylvie Lachance, one of Quebec’s leading transplant specialists, was practicing. She agreed to take me on personally. I arrived at the end of August.

I had to stay in complete isolation for 71 days, in a small room on the fifth floor of the hospital. It was before they built the IHOT. Meanwhile, the federal election campaign was in full swing. When (then-Prime Minister) Justin Trudeau came to Montreal for the leaders’ debate on TVA, he dropped by to see me at the hospital. Later he told me, “I didn’t think I was going to see you again.”

The first month, my white blood-cell count was zero. Every morning, they gave me my results. Zero. Zero. Zero. Then, over Thanksgiving weekend—I’ll never forget it—Dr. Lachance walked in with a smile. She said, “It’s working! We’ve got 100 neutrophils. Tomorrow it’ll be 200, then 400, then 800…” The transplant had finally taken.

When I was discharged in early November, it was fall. I’d lost 40 pounds and I didn’t even have a coat. I was so happy to go shopping! And I’d been re-elected to Parliament in Beauséjour riding.

I was lucky to have a perfectly matched donor: a 20-year-old German man, Jonathan Kehl. In Germany, the donor registry is well-established. He had no idea who I was. All he’d been told was that there was a man in Canada who was going to die. Without him, I wouldn’t be here.

We met three years after the transplant, first via video conference, then in Ottawa. I took him fishing in New Brunswick. He has just completed his teaching degree and wants to come back this summer to see the Rockies. I’m going to take him.

What I remember most is the quality of care at Maisonneuve-Rosemont Hospital. Absolutely everyone, from the support staff to the doctors, was friendly, remarkably kind and professional. I never had a negative experience. Not one.

And, as hematologist Imran Ahmad said publicly at a charity event, I’m cured!

I still go back to the hospital every few months. I see people I care about, who stood by me during the most difficult period of my life and literally saved my life. They’re always in good spirits. Coming back here, for whatever reason, is always a positive experience for me.

Has it changed me? I haven’t had any epiphanies. When you’re a cabinet minister, you know that everything is temporary. But I do feel I lost a bit of my life with the illness and then COVID-19. Today, I want to make up for lost time and seize every opportunity. Everything is exciting!

I’m convinced of one thing: without that transplant, without that team, without that young donor, I probably wouldn’t have celebrated my 51st birthday. One day, I’ll be able to sit on the patio of my home by the sea in New Brunswick.

People often talk about the problems in the healthcare system, but perhaps we don’t take enough time to celebrate the successes. What I’ve been through is a story of human, medical and scientific success. It makes me very happy to be able to celebrate it.

In Quebec, healthy individuals aged 18 to 35 can register as stem cell donors with Héma-Québec.

Mai Duong: “After cancer, you lose some of your innocence”

Twelve years after battling leukemia and undergoing a transplant, Mai Duong can consider herself cured. She now works to diversify stem-cell donor registries.

Today, I have an amazing life. But I would never have used the word when I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. At the time, I was pregnant with my second child, and my world fell apart. I had to terminate the pregnancy and begin aggressive chemotherapy.

Ten months later, I relapsed. I desperately needed a stem-cell transplant. But because of my Vietnamese ethnicity, my chances of finding a compatible donor were slim: the registries are sorely lacking in non-white donors. Time was running out. I felt totally helpless. I realized that something as fundamental as life itself could depend on a stranger.

Thanks to a social-media campaign that generated a lot of buzz, I was able to find a donor and receive a cord-blood stem-cell transplant on October 9, 2014.

That’s why I keep sharing my story. People don’t know about stem-cell donation. Many people could register but don’t, simply because they lack information. It’s particularly true for young adults and in diverse communities. But every registration means a very real chance to save a life.

Cancer isn’t a journey you face alone. The whole family is turned upside down. There’s the patient, but also their loved ones, feeling helpless and powerless. Their distress is immense and leaves lasting scars.

So do the treatments. Even when the disease recedes, the body remembers. Chemotherapy and radiation therapy are harsh, leaving irreversible effects in their wake. In my case, I lost my fertility. We had to find other ways to make a family. Today, I have two daughters, Alice, 16, and Béatrice, 5. One was born before the illness, the other thanks to a surrogate mother: we talk about it openly because this story is part of who we are, it isn’t taboo.

Over the past 12 years, I’ve also seen advances in medicine. Cell therapies have made giant strides forward. There are more options, more hope. And that is essential for patients going through what I went through.

I’m still the same person, with the same energy and the same drive to move forward, but I’ve lost a certain innocence. I know disease can strike at any moment—it can hit me, my children, my loved ones. You learn to live with this awareness, and above all, with the knowledge that life can go on.

In October 2018, Mai Duong and her friend Christiane Rochon launched the Swab the World Foundation to combat the underrepresentation of non-white people in global donor registries.

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