Rosemary Peña went to the hospital for gallstones.
She was 21, a pharmacy technician in the Imperial Valley, and her family had a well-known history of gallbladder trouble. When abdominal pain set in, a local community hospital visit seemed like a sensible precaution. The blood work confirmed gallstones — but what it also showed made doctors really concerned. Her white blood cell count was critically elevated, and they feared cancer. She was immediately referred to Moores Cancer Center at UC San Diego Health for further blood tests and a bone marrow biopsy.
"I called my mom panicking, saying they're telling me I might have cancer," Peña recalled. "And my mom was like, you just went in there for gallstones and now you're coming out saying you have cancer? That doesn't make sense."
In May of 2021, the biopsy confirmed chronic myeloid leukemia, or CML — a cancer of the blood and bone marrow. Peña was referred to an oncologist near her home, started on a targeted oral therapy called Dasatinib, and told that after one year of medication her condition would be controlled. For a while, that hopeful timeline seemed to hold.
When the Medicine Stopped Working
Peña's condition was well managed on the medication for about a year. Then, toward the end of 2022, something changed. She began experiencing severe aching in her arms, a side effect she had previously connected with missing doses. But this time the aches would not stop, even after she took her medication.
"I kept having these arm aches and they wouldn't go away," she said. "I told my mom, this is weird."
By late January 2023, Peña was back at UC San Diego Health for another bone marrow biopsy with Tiffany Tanaka, MD, hematologist and medical oncologist at UC San Diego Health. The call came on February 4th.
"Dr. Tanaka told me I needed to come to the hospital as soon as possible," Peña said. "'Your bone marrow is 90 percent invaded with cancer. There's no wiggle space.'"
Peña walked to her mother's room and broke down. She was 22 years old, and her cancer had taken a devastating turn.
Peña was experiencing what is known as a blast phase — a rare acceleration of CML into an acute, more aggressive disease called acute lymphoblastic leukemia or ALL. It occurs in fewer than five percent of CML patients and demands a far more intensive response than a daily pill.
Peña's mother steadied her daughter the way she always had. "Pray, she said and it is going to be fine."
Seven Months Far from Home
The next morning, Peña was admitted to UC San Diego Health and began intensive intravenous chemotherapy — a multi-agent regimen called Hyper-CVAD, designed to drive her leukemia into remission before a transplant could take place. The treatment is highly effective but also very toxic and difficult on the body with side effects that can include infection, bleeding, fatigue, nausea, and mouth sores.

Peña recovering with her big family support system. Photo credit: Rosemary Peña
The chemotherapy had to be given in the hospital, with close follow up at the infusion center at Moores Cancer Center at UC San Diego Health two to three times per week. Peña's home in Niland was three hours away, making the logistics of her care nearly as challenging as the treatment itself. Peña and her mother had no housing in San Diego and no family nearby. Her mother, who has rheumatoid arthritis, was on disability and Peña could not work during her treatment.
"I said, Mom, how are we going to do this? La Jolla housing is so expensive," Peña recalled.
Fortunately, Peña came from a tight-knit family that lives in a small, close-knit community where word of her illness traveled fast. Through a connection from a cousin's extended family, they found a furnished apartment near the hospital. They temporarily suspended payments on their Imperial Valley home and their friends and family launched a fundraising campaign to help cover rent, food, and the cost of gas. Peña's former classmates from Calipatria High School donated to the campaign and Pena's auntie Isabel jumped in to help with a big portion of the rent.
Peña and her mother stayed in La Jolla for a total of seven months. For four months before her transplant, she stayed close to the hospital while she cycled through rounds of chemotherapy, recovered from fevers and mouth sores, and slowly pushed her cancer toward remission. She stayed for another three months to recover following her transplant procedure.
"The goal of that chemotherapy was to erase any detectable leukemia," said Tanaka. "Because if you do a stem cell transplant with leukemia still present, it won't work. And finding a donor takes two or more months on its own — it's a stranger out in the world, and they have to get health testing, make time in their schedule. There's a lot of coordination."
"There are people who are so kind. They've already agreed to be a donor. When they get tapped, they confirm they're still willing, complete updated health testing, and then they donate — most of the time, just through a simple blood collection process, no pain and no surgery."
— Tiffany Tanaka, MD, hematologist and medical oncologist at UC San Diego Health
A Stranger, a Match, and the Fourth of July
Somewhere in the world, a woman Peña had never met had registered with the National Marrow Donor Program. She turned out to be a nine-out-of-ten match for HLA genes that are important immune system markers. When contacted by the program, she agreed to donate.
"There are people who are so kind," said Tanaka. "They've already agreed to be a donor. When they get tapped, they confirm they're still willing, complete updated health testing, and then they donate — most of the time, just through a simple blood collection process, no pain and no surgery."
The donor's stem cells were collected, processed, counted, and shipped. On July 4, 2023, Rosemary Peña received her bone marrow transplant.
In the week before the transplant, Peña underwent high-dose chemotherapy and total body irradiation — what Tanaka calls myeloablative conditioning — designed to completely wipe out her own diseased bone marrow and suppress her immune system to create a clear path for the donor's cells. It is among the most intensive treatments in oncology, often reserved for younger patients with the most high-risk malignancies.
"Based on her age, her health, and the aggression of her disease, we gave her a myeloablative regimen," Tanaka said. "Pretty tough stuff."
The transplant itself, by contrast, is fairly simple.
"The actual transplant is pretty uneventful — it's like receiving a blood transfusion," Tanaka said. "It's not a surgery. We always clarify that with patients. It's called a transplant, but it's simply a transfusion."

Peña credits her care team with inspiring her to become a medical assistant and teacher. Photo credit: Rosemary Peña
For Peña, the days that followed were anything but boring. She spent them mostly asleep.
"I would just open my eyes and go right back to sleep," she said. "The most I ate was four ounces at a time — my mom would buy these little containers with measurements. If I ate more, I would feel very sick."
Living with a Newborn Immune System
After a bone marrow transplant, the body must rebuild its immune system almost from scratch. Tanaka describes patients in this phase as being like newborns — their new donor-derived immune system is completely naive, having never encountered the world.
"Patients typically require months to recover to a normal level," she said. "Patients are on several antibiotics and immunosuppressive medicines so that the donor's immune system doesn't overwhelm their body and cause what's called graft-versus-host disease. They also have to redo all of their childhood vaccines, starting at six months after transplant and continuing for two years."
Graft-versus-host disease occurs when the donor's immune system begins attacking healthy tissues — causing rashes, gastrointestinal distress, or lung inflammation. Managing that balance, Tanaka explained, requires careful, constant attention: suppress the donor's immune response too much and you blunt the very mechanism curing the patient; too little and the body becomes a battleground.
For the first month after discharge, Peña had blood draws three times a week. Clinic visits continued every one to two weeks for the first three months. It was, as Tanaka put it simply, a huge commitment.
Peña's mother continued to be her anchor. When Peña was too weak to walk to her appointments, her mother pushed her in a wheelchair. It was not until January 2024 — more than six months after the transplant — that Peña says she could walk normally again.
"It took me a while," she said. "But eventually I got there."
Finding a Calling in the Hardest Years
Before her diagnosis, Peña worked as a pharmacy technician. It paid her bills, and she was good at it. But spending months inside UC San Diego Health — watching nurses move through the wards, tending to patients through the hardest days of their lives — changed something in her.
"Seeing nurses do what they do, it inspired me to become a hands-on health care worker," she said.
Once she was strong enough to stand for extended periods, she enrolled in a medical assisting program at CALRegional at Central Union Adult School. She graduated and now works within the program as an assistant skills instructor — teaching new students the physical foundations of clinical care: injections, blood draws, EKGs.
"I love helping students get into the medical field," she said. "I do eventually want to work in a clinic, but right now I really love what I'm doing — helping students put their foot in the door."
She also carries forward a perspective that only comes from having nearly lost everything.
"A lot of people take life for granted," she said. "They see the bad sides and don't see the good — those small things."
Ringing in Hope at the Padres Game
Peña is now in remission, continuing her follow-up care at UC San Diego Health. She is working, teaching, and living her life. Soon she will mark her journey with a moment she will not forget: being honored at a San Diego Padres game as part of the Ringing in Hope ceremony, a tradition that celebrates cancer patients by giving them the opportunity to ring the stadium's Ceremonial Mission Bell before a game.
Tanaka plans to be there, too.
"I am so happy that she gets to have this experience," said Tanaka. "She has been through so much and has such a positive attitude."
For Peña, the bell will mean something simple and enormous: she made it. The young woman who walked into the hospital for gallstones and came out with a cancer diagnosis, who spent seven months far from home with her mother by her side, who received the gift of a stranger's cells on the Fourth of July — she made it.
"I learned to look at life in a different way," she said. "I see the brighter sides now."
Bone Marrow Donation
Bone marrow donation is now nearly as easy as giving blood.
Blood & Bone Marrow Transplantation Cancer Care Leukemia, Lymphoma & Other Blood Cancers
Blood & Bone Marrow Transplantation Cancer Care Leukemia, Lymphoma & Other Blood Cancers
