This Is Good Shit

This was it. Everything we had been wishing for for the last six months was about to to come true. The call came in from Dr. Miller’s office and I would be making the trip to Baltimore in the next two weeks. The famous Johns Hopkins University Cancer Center was waiting for me with open arms. My current situation had me feeling pretty bad. My last CBC bloodwork showed that my white cell count was beyond acceptable limits and rising quickly. I was so tired. I looked like shit. My appointment couldn’t come quick enough.

We made plans to drive down to Baltimore the night prior to my appointment and stay at the Sheraton hotel near the Chesapeake Bay waterfront. My appointment was at nine am in the morning and I didn’t want to be late. My Dad would be accompanying me on the first trip. He was so worried. He had discussed with me about his concerns before I had my Bone Marrow Transplant a few years earlier. He thought that maybe I should wait to see if other opportunities would present themselves while remaining on the current therapies available like the Hydroxyurea that I was taking. Wait for a less drastic procedure. A safer option. There wasn’t time then to do that. We had to move quickly. Now, on our drive down to Hopkins he wondered if I should or could wait a little longer and let others be the Guinea pigs for a while. Lol. Again, time was of the essence. I didn’t have the luxury of another minute to wait. I needed this drug now!

I had never been to Baltimore. An old city style town where the Waterfront and the Orioles baseball stadium were the centerpieces of the city. There was one aspect of our trip that I was so really looking forward to. Our family grew up savoring Blue Claw Crabs. We loved them. Every Friday night, my Dad would pick up a few dozen Steamed Blue claws at Walt’s Bar on Oxford Circle on the Roosevelt boulevard in Northeast Philly. You could smell the Old Bay when he walked in. We always had a great time with neighbors, cousins, friends, etc. ,Whomever. It was always open house, just rsvp so there were enough Crabs to go around. Pretzels, pickles, beer and soda finished off the menu. It was good times. Baltimore was famous for the crusty crustacean. Supposedly the best on Earth! If we were going to be in Baltimore, we were gonna have crabs. What a bonus! Get to save my life and eat my favorite food! Let’s Get it!

We reached the hotel around 5 pm and grabbed a bite to eat. Our conversation during the 3 hour ride centered around the science of what was the drug STI-571 and the hopes of what the study would accomplish. Being chosen to participate in a FDA drug trial is a big thing. This was no blind study. No placebos involved. This we knew already. So many sick people. Their lives teetering on the wire, like mine. No games. It worked and you live. It doesn’t and it’s over. How comforting was that. It better work. I was pretty nervous as was my Dad so we tried to turn in early. There wasn’t going to be much sleep tonight.

Morning light finally shone through the blinds and we got ready to go. The directions had us driving through some nefarious areas. Hopkins had been there many years. We reached the hospital finally. It seemed like I couldn’t get there fast enough. We parked the car, and made our way to the Cancer Center offices. The campus was enormous. Dr. Miller greeted us and invited us into her office. The pleasantries were short as she was very busy, but she reviewed my situation, as grave as it was, and welcomed me to the trial. She was a very big fan of Dr. Dave. Apparantly everyone was. Dr. Miller explained that my car would soon know its way very well to Hopkins. I would be a very frequent visitor. Beginning with visits every two weeks for two months and then monthly visits for an additional three months. That was a minimum. Each visit would include a Bone Marrow Aspiration, extensive bloodwork and consultation. Lucky me. Those were the terms. After signing a very large amount of papers that were necessary to continue with the program, I was led to an exam room to begin the regimen. Physical exam, bloodwork, more questions, the Bone Marrow Aspiration department, yes they had a dedicated department, and my final dosage instructions. And oh yes, did I have any questions? Hell yeah! Is it going to work??? The study nurse produced a brown paper bag with a brown bottle of pills. She simply answered my question with a smile and this line…” Don’t worry bud, This is Good Shit!” What else could I ask for.

I limped out of the hospital while my dad got the car. It was just after lunch time and I knew our next destination. A tiny street near the hospital where a highly recommended crab restaurant named O’Bricky’s resided. A small door in a brick row style building and a small sign hanging over it. The smell was glorious. The tables covered with brown paper and wooden mallets. The crabs were served Dirty, covered in Old Bay and waiting to be devoured. As we dug in my dad asked me how they tasted. My answer…” This is good shit”. A fitting answer and end to a crazy, painful, hopeful and blessed day. We hit the road with my bag of gold. Those pills were my hope for the future. The hope for A future. I would take my first dose that evening. Then kiss my boys and my wife. And wait. Wait for a miracle. I needed a miracle.

Next up: So Here We Go!