Remembering Chris

Welcoming the Heros Among Us

I was on the road last week and part of this week.  Combining business and pleasure, I stopped over in Lincoln, Nebraska over the weekend to go trick or treating with my 9 year old niece, Jorie, and had a wonderful time walking the streets with all sorts of ghosts, goblins, witches and wizards, cleopatra, lions, pirates, etc.  The weather cooperated, the candy was plentiful and everyone had a great and safe time as we made our way up and down the residential streets of Lincoln.  The rest of my time there was visiting with my sister, Ellen, and her husband, Rod.  I raked leaves (they have a lot of leaves because of the big trees that sit on their property!).  I don't think I have raked leaves since I was a kid--we just don't seem to have the need to rake leaves in Malibu!  You kind of need different seasons for the leaves to fall and we tend to have only two seasons out here in southern California--spring and summer.  Fall and winter kind of morph into one of the two but there is not much difference in any of our seasons. 

Alas, I had to return to reality on Tuesday and head back to LA and in order to do so, I flew out of Omaha through Dallas-Fort Worth to Los Angeles.  But, something wonderful happened in Omaha before we took off.  As I walked up to my gate, the plane that I was to take was just unloading and I was struck by an unusual site.  People had lined up to form a pathway for the deplaning passengers and most of them were holding small American flags.  I asked the attendant at the counter what was going on and was told that there were at least 7 soldiers on the fight that were coming back from Iraq and the airline wanted them to have a rousing welcome home when they came through the door.  The gate attendant had the microphone that is normally used to announce when you can get in line to board but this time she was hovering by the door and reporting back to the crowd when a soldier was on his way up the gang plank and as each soldier emerged, the crowd waved their flags and clapped and whooped and hollered at the same time.  The soldier was greeted by family (usually wife and child) and then together they had to walk the gauntlet of grateful Americans who wanted to thank them for their service to their country.  It was really awesome and it brought tears to my eyes and even to some of the soldiers' family members as they were given a heroes welcome. 

Next Wednesday is Veterans Day.  I think that I will enjoy it a lot more because of the experience I had in Omaha this week.  We can never take for granted the sacrifice of our soldiers.  These soldiers only have a two-week leave and then must go back to Iraq.  They will be in harms way again.  There are millions of veterans to whom we owe a great debt and gratitude.  Remember to honor these quiet heroes who served without complaining, who served honorably and with dignity and discipline and did so because they recognize that freedom must be protected at all costs--even the ultimate cost of one's life.  Honor our veterans, don't just mark it as a day off from work.  They deserve it!

Back to Duke

I traveled to Durham last Friday to attend an Advisory Board meeting for the Preston Robert Tisch Brain Tumor Center.  Flying into Raleigh-Durham airport and renting the car to drive from the airport to the Center was much harder than I had anticipated.  I had not forgotten the way, but it felt surreal as I made my way up the highway as I remembered the times that Chris and I had made the same trek to go for treatment at the Center.  A flood of memories came back as did a flood of tears.  However, I didn’t turn back, I drove to the hotel where the meeting would be held and checked in. 

 

Dr. Henry Friedman picked me up for dinner.  He is the same doctor who I have written about on so many occasions because he is the one who has continued to send me short, to the point emails since Chris’ death.  They are very simple—“how are you doing?”  How many physicians do that?  Well, they do things a little differently at Duke and when the brain cancer takes its patient, the caring doesn’t stop at death.  The family is more than just another “patient” or “victim of disease.”  We are cared for at Duke in ways that I have not seen before. 

 

Henry is a fabulous physician and advocate, but he is also a wonderful family man.  He loves his two children and adores his wife.  He loves talking about them and is so very proud of all of their accomplishments.  His wife, Joanne, is also a well respected physician and scientist spending her time in working in stem cell research.  They make a dynamic duo and although I did not get to meet Joanne this trip (she had the flu), I feel like I already know her from the loving descriptions from Henry.  Maybe because Henry is such a family man that is why he treats patients and their family in much the same manner. 

 

At the meeting on Friday, I had the chance to meet many individuals whose lives have been touched by brain cancer/tumors.  At my table was a man who has been in the same  vaccine trail as Chris and he is over 5 years out!  That was so wonderful to hear and to know that 1 out of 4 patients in the trial were out over 2 ½ years or more.  That is great news in the world of glioblastomas, believe me.  Many in the room had lost loved ones to this terrible disease, but they were there to try and do their part to support the efforts of Duke in finding a cure. 

 

We all heard an update about the latest treatments and research at Duke and it was exhilarating to hear about the targeted therapies that were being developed.  I had a tour of Dr. John Sampson’s laboratory (he was the trial investigator in Chris’ vaccine trial) and I came away so thrilled by the efforts and progress being made.  Yes, it is slow—excruciatingly slow if you are fighting this disease--but there is progress and there will be a cure someday, of that I am sure and I wouldn’t be surprised if it came out of Duke. 

 

I came away from the meeting feeling glad that I made the trip.  You have a sense of helplessness when you are living with someone who has a glioblastoma and staying involved with the fight for the cure is a way of taking back some control that was lost.  I am only one person, but I plan on recruiting others in this fight.  Not just because Chris lost his earthly battle to this disease but because I have had so many friends who also have been confronted with brain cancer.  The task is daunting, but doable.  I believe that a cure is possible and I hope all of you out there reading this blog do so as well.