Chapter 115: The Bravest Man I Ever Knew

1993

I was in a good mood when I got home. Newt and the Republican Party would have done the Contract with America whether I had recycled or not, but with me involved we had a chance of toning down the harsher aspects to it. I was already pushing to keep most of the ‘family values’ crap out of it. That was a sideshow that always sidetracked the Party and played into the hands of the Democrats.

My good mood broke when I got home. Bucky was staying with us, and while I really like my namesake, I was curious. “Hey, buddy, what’s up? Where’s the rest of the family?”

He gave me a strange look. “Mom said I was staying with you guys for a few days, maybe until the weekend.”

I shrugged. “That’s cool. Carter here, too?” Maybe Tessa and Tusker were taking a few days off for themselves.

I got that odd look again. “No, they were going somewhere with him.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to your Aunt Marilyn.” I dropped my briefcase in my office and went down the hall to my bedroom and changed out of my suit. I was on the verge of heading back out when Marilyn came into the bedroom. She closed the door behind her, but she didn’t have a playful look in her eyes. I knew she wasn’t planning any fun and games before dinner. “What’s up?” I asked.

“Bucky is going to be spending a few nights with us.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I saw him out in the living room. What’s with that?”

“Tessa and Tusker are taking Carter for testing.”

“What’s wrong with Carter?” The Tusk’s second son was a good boy, and bright. Like his brother, he had his father’s bright red hair, but where Bucky was tall and had Tusker’s looks, Carter was smaller and looked a lot more like his mother.

Marilyn lowered her voice. “They are taking him to the Mayo Clinic. They think he has cancer.”

I just stared at my wife while the blood roared in my ears for a second. She wasn’t smiling, and this wasn’t something people joke about. After a few seconds, I said, “What? When did this happen?”

Marilyn gave a helpless shrug and sat down on the bed next to me. “He’s been seeing his doctor for a few months now, but they just started putting the pieces together. He gets tired, his knees and elbows are constantly hurting, and he keeps getting bruises that never heal.”

“I saw one of the bruises, over Christmas, and later, when we came back from the Bahamas. I thought it was different.”

My wife shook her head. “It was the same bruise. It should have healed by then.”

“Why aren’t they taking him to Johns Hopkins? That’s just down the road, and it’s one of the best hospitals in the country!”

“They already have. His pediatrician referred him there. That’s where they diagnosed it as cancer. This Mayo Clinic trip is a second opinion.”

“Huh!” I sat there in disbelief for a second. “What kind of cancer?”

“I don’t know. Some type of leukemia or something.”

“How are they getting out there? They’re not flying him through the airports, are they? Have they left? I can get the Gulfstream...”

Marilyn took my hand and smiled. “I already did that. As soon as I heard I called Taylor and made the arrangements. They dropped Bucky off on their way out to Westminster. They’re probably already there.”

“Oh, sure ... okay.” I should have known better. “Why us and not his grandparents?”

“Luck of the draw. His folks are in very poor health themselves, and hers are in Europe on vacation.”

I nodded at that. Tusker was a year older than Tessa, but he was the baby of his family, and she was the oldest child in hers. His parents were at least ten years older than hers. I smiled back at her. “Well, it’s not like he’s never been here before. All we have to do is make sure he and Charlie don’t try to build a moon rocket in the back yard.”

“Launch the pair of them out of here!”

“Maybe they’ll find out it’s something else.”

“Let’s hope!” she agreed.

For the next few days, we kept our hopes up and our mouths shut. Bucky didn’t have any idea what was going on. He was a smart kid and growing up as fast as a weed. He was fourteen now and would be fifteen in June (as if I would ever forget his birthday!) He was already well over five feet tall and growing fast, and I wasn’t even sure if he had hit his growth spurt yet! Even if he averaged out between his two parents in height, Tusker was taller than I was by several inches, and Tessa was about Marilyn’s height. Bucky would probably be taller than me.

The only odd thing was explaining to the kids why their friend was staying with us during a school week. Marilyn would run him down to school in Cockeysville after loading the kids on the school bus. Otherwise, we had the phone ringing off the hook as girls started calling the house for him. Bucky had figured out that girls weren’t all that gross and yucky! Charlie thought his older friend was crazy in this regard, and Bucky just laughed at him.

The twins were eight, like Carter, and they were curious why Bucky was staying here when Carter wasn’t. They kept picking at us, first me, then their mother, then me again, and finally Marilyn chewed their butts and told them to behave and go to their room. They grumped and whined, and I stood up and then they took off with considerable alacrity! It pays to be big! I gave Marilyn a wry smile and we went back to what we had been doing.

The Tusks flew back with Carter Sunday morning, and I could tell by the looks on their faces as they came by to retrieve Bucky that the second opinion was the same as the first. We turned Carter loose upon the other kids and sat Tessa and Tusker down in the kitchen.

“So, what is it?” I asked.

“Acute lymphocytic leukemia,” answered Tusker. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pamphlet. “Here, I knew you’d ask, so I picked this up. Thanks for flying us out there. I’ll pay you back somehow...”

I waved it off. “The hell you will. Forget it! What’s this acute ... whatever? Leukemia? That’s a blood cancer of some sort, right?”

Tusker looked at Tessa, who answered, “It’s a fairly common childhood cancer, but not normally seen in adults. Your white blood cells go haywire and go into overproduction but aren’t like normal white blood cells. For what it’s worth, they say we caught it early, so that’s good. It’s the same diagnosis we got at Johns Hopkins. They suggested we continue to have him treated here.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? You’re only half an hour from one of the best hospitals in the country, maybe even the world! There’s a cure, right?” asked Marilyn.

I didn’t know shit about cancer and leukemia, but I did know that childhood leukemia was one of the most treatable cancers. By the time I recycled, it was practically guaranteed curable, at least if you could afford to go to the hospital. Most Americans didn’t have health insurance after about 2020.

Our friends nodded. And grimaced. “The treatment is chemotherapy. There’s nothing to operate on surgically. That and maybe radiation.”

“That sucks, but at the end, he’ll be cured. They do all sorts of stuff with cancer these days,” I told them. “Listen, let me make a few calls this week. See if I can find any experts in Washington. Don’t delay anything but let me look into it.”

At that offer, Tusker and Tessa looked at each other and smiled. Tessa said, “Why do you think we brought you that pamphlet? We knew you’d want it spelled out for you when you started poking around.”

“You two are real funny! Am I that predictable?”

The other three all looked at each other and said, damn near in unison, “Yes!” I just rolled my eyes. The Tusks left us with the pamphlet and packed up their kids and went home.

That night I made sure to hug each of my children before they went to bed. The girls didn’t think about it, but Charlie thought it was strange. I told him to tough it out, or I’d kiss him, too. He ran shrieking at the thought, which made Marilyn and me laugh.

Monday morning, after my morning staff meeting, I had Babs and Mindy stick around. “A friend of mine has a child with leukemia. Who do I see about finding him the best doctor in the country?”

The two women looked at each other. Mindy looked a little mystified, but Babs immediately answered, “You need to see somebody over at the National Institutes of Health. They’ll know somebody.”

“Is this one of your children, sir?” asked Mindy.

I shook my head. “No, but he might as well be. It’s my best friend’s youngest.”

“I can make a few calls, set something up,” said Babs.

“Make it happen fast. I need to know this week,” I pressed. They nodded and left. I called Marty in, and we started discussing other stuff.

Wednesday morning, I drove out to Bethesda, where I had an appointment with somebody about leukemia. The National Institutes of Health are a sprawling campus where they do research and fund medical research for the government. Babs and Mindy had made enough calls to move me up the food chain.

Bethesda wasn’t far from the house on 30^th, but it took my driver a bit to find a parking spot and make our way to the front door. In those pre-9-11 days you didn’t get strip searched on opening the door. The young lady at the main desk took my name and called somebody, and two minutes later an earnest young man came down and retrieved me. “Welcome, Congressman Buckman. You’ll be meeting with Doctor Heisman this morning,” he told me.

“Lead the way.”

I was escorted inside, where we took an elevator up several floors. I was led to an office with a sign by the door, ‘Jonathan Heisman, Executive Director’, which my guide simply pushed open and led me into a small waiting area. I was deposited with a secretary and my guide took off. Almost immediately I was shown into an inner office, to find two men waiting for me.

“Congressman Buckman, welcome to the National Institutes of Health. I’m Jonathan Heisman, the Executive Director. Doctor Healey would have been here, but she’s at a conference in San Diego this week,” said the first man, a slim and ascetic looking man with a trim beard and mustache. He reached out and we shook hands.

“That’s all right. This just came up, Doctor ... I assume it’s Doctor?”

He nodded. “Yes, both MD and PhD. This is Doctor Harry Hollings, my counterpart over at the National Cancer Institute, one of our sub-agencies.”

I turned to the other man, a thoroughly nondescript fellow about my height and about twenty pounds heavier. He reached out to shake my hand also. “Pleased to meet you, Congressman, although not under these circumstances.”

“Thank you. I agree, it’s not the way I would want to meet anybody.”

Heisman gestured towards an armchair. “Why don’t we sit and talk about that.” We made ourselves comfortable, and he opened the talk. “My understanding is that you have a friend, a constituent I believe, with a child with leukemia.”

I had to smile at that. “Close, but not exactly. They aren’t my constituents, but they are very close friends. Their youngest son was just diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia.” I took the pamphlet, now getting worn out, out of my pocket and laid it on the desk. “They were initially diagnosed at Johns Hopkins, and then got the same diagnosis a few days later at the Mayo Clinic.”

“And what brings you to us?” asked Hollings.

“I don’t know. What can I do to help, I guess?”

Heisman looked at Hollings, who asked me a few questions. When did they notice the first symptoms? When did they take Carter to Johns Hopkins? When did they take him to Rochester? When were they starting treatment? I answered each as best I could.

“Congressman, I have to tell you that your friends are doing everything we tell people to do. They took the symptoms seriously, they sought out medical treatment, they went to specialists, and they got a second opinion. They are not delaying anything and are at as good a facility as you can find.”

“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 someday,” 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 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 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.”