"Will he be cured?", I asked.
Hollings made a wry face and shrugged, raising his hands in an expression of helplessness. "Sir, I just don't know. The odds are good, but not perfect. The good news is that when caught early, childhood leukemia is one of the more treatable forms of cancer. The odds are better than even. The bad news is that it's a very serious disease, and nothing is guaranteed."
"I understand that. Tell me, are there any clinical trials, experimental drugs or treatments, other things they could do? Is there a doctor I could send them to, anywhere else, in the world even?"
He shook his head. "No, not really. Treatments are improving every day, but we don't have a magic bullet hidden away somewhere."
"Nothing?! Money isn't an object. I mean, if you've got some million dollar pill available, we can spend the million dollars.", I pushed.
"Sorry, Congressman, we don't even have a ten million dollar pill. Your friends are doing what can be done."
"GODDAMMIT!", I cursed. The other two looked concerned, but I held my hands up. "Sorry, I apologize for that. It's not your fault, and I know you're trying to be helpful. I appreciate that. I really do."
It was Heisman who spoke next. "I take it this family is very close to you."
I sighed and nodded. "I went to school as a kid with the parents. The father was one of the ushers at my wedding, and the mother went into labor with their first child at our reception. My wife and I attended Carter's christening. I don't think we can get any closer."
"Then you're already doing everything you can. They're doing all the right stuff for Carter's treatment. You're supporting them. That's what you can do."
Hollings added, "Something else you can do, Congressman Buckman, is to understand just how debilitating this is going to be on everybody. The primary treatment is going to be chemotherapy. Everything you've ever heard about how hard chemo is on a person is true. Carter is going to be sick as a dog on his good days. This is going to be very hard on his parents and the rest of the family, too. If you want to help, take the load off the family. Let any of the kids stay with you, run an errand or two for them, give them a break and see that they have a date night or two."
I sighed again. "We can do that. I'll let my wife know tonight."
Heisman spoke up again. "The other thing you can do, Congressman, is your job. Get us more funding. There's never enough, and it directly tracks into better treatments and breakthroughs."
I smiled. "And that's your job, isn't it. Funding, right."
He smiled back. "We understand each other."
I stood. "Well, I appreciate the time you took. If I can return the favor someday, well, I owe you, and you know where my office is." I smiled and shook their hands.
"I'll hold you to that some day.", Heisman returned, smiling at me.
I excused myself and left. An escort took me back down to the lobby, at which point I called my office and said I would be back the next morning. From Bethesda I decided to drive home, not to the Washington house but to my real home, with a stop along the way. We drove up to Baltimore and got on the Beltway, and then drove clockwise around the city to York Road, and went up to Tusk Cycles in Cockeysville.
Tusker was talking to a middle-aged couple when I entered the showroom. He nodded to me when he saw me enter, but I waved him off and he never stopped dealing with his customers. We could talk later. I wandered around the showroom, admiring the gleaming machines and marveling at the prices they commanded. I had no desire to ride one, but they were so expensive only rich and retired folks could afford a top end Harley with all the whistles and bells. Unbelievable!
After a few minutes, Tusker came down the aisle and found me. I looked over at him and smiled. "Sell them?"
He smiled back. "Two brand new Softails, plus customization." He made the universal sign for money, by rubbing his thumb against his fingers.
I just shook my head in amusement. "Did you check to make sure their organ donor cards are filled out?"
Tusker laughed. "Just wait until Charlie wants his license. We've already got Bucky clamoring for his."
I gave an exaggerated shudder. "Let's talk."
He nodded and led the way to his office. For all of Tusker's public persona of the wild and crazy biker, his office was that of a serious businessman, with a computer on his desk, and the appropriate furnishings. There was a reason he had two sales lots and was more than a little profitable. "What's up?", he asked as we settled into a couple of chairs.
"Well, you know I was planning on seeing if I could find anything better for Carter in D.C., right?"
"Yeah, you mentioned it. Find out anything?"
"Nothing more than you already know. I met with the head of the National Institutes of Health and the National Cancer Institute. I told them what was happening and they asked me a few questions, but you guys are basically doing what you're supposed to do. Hopkins is as good a place as any to take Carter, and you're doing the right stuff. You aren't dicking around, you're starting treatment, you've been to a good place for a second opinion." I shrugged in helplessness. "There are no magic pills. I asked. Chemo is the answer, and it won't be any fun."
Tusker sighed. "Thanks, man, I... we ... appreciate it. I didn't think you would find anything else, but I'm glad you looked into it."
"The one thing they stressed was that this is going to take a lot of time and care. They said to tell you to get everybody involved. It is going to be very stressful on all of you, not just Carter. Tell your family and friends, get them to help. Have you talked to your parents yet? Tessa's parents?"
He nodded. "We had everybody over for dinner Monday night. Boy, was that fun!"
"Well you know you can count on us, and let your other friends know, too. Carter's going to take up a lot of time. If Bucky needs a break, have him stay with us, you know we'd love to have him. If you and Tessa need a break, let us and other people help. Let the people here at the shop and at the other place know. Somebody else has been through this and can tell you stuff."
"I never thought about that, but you're right. One of my mechanics over at the Honda place lost his mother last year to breast cancer." He grimaced as he thought about it.
"That's supposed to be a whole lot tougher than leukemia. The odds are a lot better for Carter, so don't get too glum.", I told him.
He nodded again. "That it?"
"Yeah, pretty much. I have to head home now and let Marilyn know. When does Carter start his treatment?"
"Friday morning, and then twice a week for six weeks. Come on over to the house on Sunday."
"Sure. Have Tessa call Marilyn and set it up."
I stood up and let myself out and went home, to tell Marilyn the news. She agreed with me that it seemed like everything that could be done was being done.
My own experience with cancer was limited, but not reassuring. The Buckman family simply doesn't get cancer or heart disease or diabetes or any of the other biggies. For us, I think, it's worse. We all get strokes and Alzheimers. I wondered how my 'recycling' had been handled – heart attack or stroke? If it was a heart attack, it was the first!
Marilyn's family was riddled with cancer. Both Harriet and Big Bob would die from it, and her baby brother Michael would get it several times before dying from it. Harriet had been too far gone by the time she was diagnosed to even receive treatment, but I remembered the hell that Big Bob and Michael went through. Chemotherapy had been hell on Earth for the two men, with all the weight loss, nausea, vomiting, and hair loss you learn about.