A young girl gets a chance to live and a father of two makes a life-giving gift. Denise Deegan meets two people with an unusual friendship
She wears a bright orange Tommy Girl T-shirt. Her hair is short and spiky, her eyes, hazel. She is 15. Sitting opposite is an attractive father-of-two in his late 30s.
They have two things in common. Both are called Chris. And he saved her life.
Listening to them, you would never tell. Christina is more interested in talking about horses than what she has been through. And Christy treats her with the kind of healthy irreverence one reserves for family and friends.
Six years ago, knowing nothing about Christina, Christy donated bone marrow to save her life.
Their story goes back 15 years, to before Christina even became ill. Christy Dodd joined the bone marrow register in the hope that he would be a match for a baby called Jayne, a relative of his wife Karen, who had a blood disorder and needed a transplant.
Christy was not a match and, although Jayne did find a suitable donor, she lost her struggle for life.
Nine years after giving his sample, and completely out of the blue, Christy received a call at work from a representative of the Irish Blood Transfusion Service (IBTS). His blood had been matched with that of a nine-year-old girl who needed a transplant. Would he be interested in having more tests and learning about what might be involved? No pressure was applied.
When I ask Christy how he felt at the time, there isn't a trace of false bravado.
"I wasn't sure. Nine out of 10 of my family and friends were against it. They said, it wasn't as if I knew the girl. It had nothing to do with me, so I shouldn't get involved. They were nervous because very little was publicly known about bone marrow transplantation at the time," he says.
It was Christy's own life experiences that encouraged him to go ahead. His own daughter, Kellie, had just undergone a heart operation at Our Lady's Hospital for Sick Children at the age of six months.
He imagined what this family must have been going through. Also, his brother-in-law, 'Spanner', had recently been diagnosed with cancer. "We were very close," he says.
After a series of blood tests called HLA tissue typing, which are performed by the National Tissue Typing Reference Laboratory at the National Blood Centre, Christy was selected as the most suitable donor. He agreed to go ahead.
This involved one day and an overnight in hospital where, under anaesthetic, bone marrow was aspirated from his pelvis. A week later he was back at work.
The day of Christina's transplant, Christy's friend, Spanner, died. It was some comfort to know that, on that day, someone else was being given a chance at life.
That someone else was Christina Kavanagh, diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukaemia at the age of one and a half and on her second relapse at the age of nine.
The transplant was her only hope.
Christina's mum, Joan, never doubted that they would find a donor.
"I have great faith. I knew it would happen. But when it did we were so grateful. Afterwards, we sent cards to Christy through the staff at Pelican House - at that stage, there couldn't be any direct contact between the families.
"The Christmas after the transplant, Christina made a crib for Christy's family. And one and a half years later, when her confirmation was coming up, she decided that she'd like him to be her sponsor."
This, of course, meant that they would have to meet.
Up to two-thirds of all bone marrow transplants in Ireland are between related donors and recipients.
According to Olive O'Neill of the Irish Unrelated Bone Marrow Registry, in the case of unrelated transplants, less than 5 per cent of donors and recipients meet. It is the policy of most international registries, apart from the UK and the United States, to maintain total anonymity between recipient and donor.
The worry is that the transplant might not work and this might cause distress for the donor. Also, both sides must want to meet and, in many cases, the recipient is too busy coping with recovery.
Christina, Christy and their families did meet under the supervision of the medical teams from the IBTS (whose care Christy had been under) and Our Lady's Hospital for Sick Children (who looked after Christina).
It couldn't have gone better. Since then, both families have become close, getting together regularly.
"We go down to the farm in Wexford twice or three times a year," says Christy. "Our kids, Lee and Kellie, ride Christina's horses. Christina's brother, Martin, and I go golfing. Of course, Joan's cooking is another big attraction."
Joan believes it was Christina's determination that got her through years of illness.
Passionate about horses, this year, she was long-listed for the under-16, pony A section of the Irish Eventing team to represent Ireland in the European Championships.
She also completed her Junior Certificate. Unfortunately, the little girl ultimately responsible for Christina's recovery, Jayne, would also have completed her Junior Cert this year had she survived. It is a comfort to her parents to know that something positive has come of their tragedy.
The poignancy of this case is unusual.
One of the best things about bone marrow transplantation is that no one need die for a donation to be made, as in the case of unrelated organ transplantation. Bone marrow regenerates itself so it won't be missed.
There are just under 18,000 names on the Irish bone marrow registry, which is part of a worldwide database - Bone Marrow Donors Worldwide - of nine million volunteers.
"So", according to Olive O'Neill, "if we need to find a match for an Irish person, there is a good chance we will."
You can register to join the Irish Unrelated Bone Marrow Registry if you are a regular blood donor, between the ages of 18 and 45 years with no back problems.
Information leaflets and application forms can be found in blood donor clinics, or by contacting www.ibts.ie or (01) 4322836.