Monday morning after breakfast I phoned the office of our
local pediatrician, Dr. Traverse. Due to
the staunch resistance my parents felt towards a transplant, Harry and I had
decided that a meeting with Dr. Traverse might settle some of their anxiety. His receptionist listened patiently as I
explained our desire to meet with Dr. Traverse as
soon as possible. She consulted with the
doctor and then booked us for a 4:30
appointment that same day.
I tried to get the boys started on their school work for
the day but my heart was not in it. In
the afternoon the phone rang just as Andrew asked me to read to him. Worry nagged at me as I watched him quietly
return to play upstairs. He looked so
tired and lethargic. What could I do to make
him healthy? I felt so helpless and so
guilty.
We had tried eliminating sugar and milk and white flour
from his diet. But it was hard for a
little boy to understand why he had to give up his favorite foods. He did his best though, and stoically denied
himself desserts and goodies. He
obediently swallowed vitamins and pills, but detested drinking some of the
other herbal remedies. At times it all
seemed so futile to me. Was it really
helping to take herbal products when the chemotherapy was making such an
onslaught on his whole system?
As I answered the phone it was a relief to hear Tilly’s
voice on the other end. I shared my
worries with her while she listened quietly.
After hearing me out, she gently questioned whether I should be fretting
and fussing when I could be enjoying my son and my time with him. That helped change my perspective. She kept the conversation short and again urged
me to spend time with the children instead of trying to analyze Andrew’s
diet. I called him back down as soon as
we hung up and spent the rest of the afternoon reading and playing games with
the boys.
Dr.
Traverse greeted us warmly albeit
with a sober face, realizing the crisis we were in. He seated us in a semi-circle around his desk
and as he sat down Harry began. "Dr. Traverse,
we really appreciate you taking the time to see us. As you know, we are being advised to treat
Andrew with a bone marrow transplant, however, we aren't sure that that is the
best option. Could you give us your
opinion of Andrew's situation?"
"I was shocked when I heard that Andrew had relapsed," Dr. Traverse
began. "In all the years of my
practice I have treated about 12 A.L.L. patients and of those 12 only 2
relapsed. Accute Lymphocytic Leukemia is
the most curable cancer. Few children
with A.L.L. die. The chemo is almost
always effective in putting them into remission. Now, why Andrew
relapsed we don't know, but it is highly unusual."
"What would you say is the best form of treatment
for Andrew at this point?" we
asked.
He paused thoughtfully.
"You have a choice of chemo--which would be another
2 or 3 years--or, you can have a bone marrow transplant which might take up to
a year. Now if Andrew
didn't have a good donor match then you would want to consider chemo, but with
the perfect match that they have found for him, you would undoubtedly be better
off with the BMT."
I noticed my father looking agitated.
"Dr. Traverse, what about going with alternative
health methods like ozone treatments, interferon, chelation therapies, and
herbal remedies?" I quickly inserted.
Dr.
Traverse's face took on a rather
forbidding look.
"Herbs! Herbs
are fine when you have minor ailments, but herbs will not cure leukemia. We had a child brought into the emergency room
last month. Her parents tried to cure
her with alternative methods and she died!
She died a terrible, tragic death!"
His dramatic words silenced us. In the quietness Dad cleared his throat and
slowly began to speak.
"We understand that a bone marrow transplant brings
with it much suffering for the patient.
We cannot justify subjecting Andrew
to this type of pain when we have no guarantee that the bone marrow transplant
would be a success."
"Yes, there is pain," agreed the Doctor. "There will be rejection of the body to
the new bone marrow cells. However, even
the rejection can be controlled with newly developed drugs and usually burns
itself out after a matter of time. Then,
in a year's time you have a child that is cancer-free!"
"But what if the transplant doesn't work and Andrew
dies," Dad persisted.
"That is a possibility but if you don't try it you
will have to live with the awful regret that it might have worked. And if you don't do it then Andrew dies anyways."
"Yes, that’s exactly my point. If he's going to die anyways, we want it to
be the least painful death," my father emphasized.
The chilling words that the doctor said next seemed to be
God-ordained as they brought about an amazing climax.
"And you think that Andrew
will not suffer if he dies a 'natural' death?" Dr.
Traverse responded. As the words hung in the air over us waiting
for our heavy hearts to absorb them, I glanced at my father and somehow knew
that his mind was doing a complete turn-around.
"Could you describe what would happen in such an
event?" my father questioned. The
tension in my heart was almost more than I could bear. It felt wearisome beyond belief to be
discussing Andrew's death and yet the
light was about to break through.
"Well, he would slowly lose the use of his limbs as
fatigue would overtake him. Then as his
blood cells would deteriorate he would surely develop a bacterial infection in
his lungs which would kill him. The
other possibility would be hemorrhaging in the brain as his platelets would no
longer be able to clot." These
grim words hit all of us--but particularly my father--like a freight train,
blowing apart his cherished hope that Andrew
could be spared pain and suffering.
I saw the flash of understanding cross my father's lined
face as he recognized that fact that Andrew
would have to suffer regardless of which route we took. Enough had been said. There were no more questions. Our minds and hearts had more than enough bitter
food to digest. We thanked the doctor
again for his time, and silently went to our cars. Just before Liz went to join Mom and Dad in
their vehicle she put her hand on my shoulder and said quietly, "Well,
that's settled! The transplant is your
only choice, right?" I smiled
ruefully and nodded.
Later when I met Harry
at home his first words were, "Well, that was a waste of time!"
"Why?" I
asked in surprise.
"Well, for one thing, Dr. Traverse
talked so quietly I'm sure your mom couldn't hear a thing, and for another
thing, I couldn't understand a word he said.
It all sounded like technical doctor-talk. I'm sure it could have been Greek as far as
your parents were concerned."
"I'm not so sure," I responded
thoughtfully. "I thought Dad did a
complete 360 degree turn in his mind when Dr. Traverse
talked about dying a natural death."
"You think so?" Harry
said incredulously. "That sure
passed me by."
"We'll find out when we go there for supper
tonight," I responded.
Mom's kitchen was humming with family and relatives when
we arrived. An aunt and uncle were
visiting and so a family gathering was in order. There was no opportunity to talk about our
conference with the doctor and so I concentrated on enjoying this unexpected
visit with loving relatives. After the
meal, as I was carrying dirty dishes from the dining room into the kitchen, Dad
followed me and putting his arm around me said quietly, "Mom and I think
you're doing the right thing by going
ahead with the transplant."
My heart was still singing that evening as I read in my
Bible before bedtime,
"Look on me and answer...
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death..
But I trust in your unfailing love;
I will sing to the Lord, for He has been good to me."
(Psalm
13)
