Spoils of War

My mother died of a brain aneurysm. I remember the exact spot in my grandparents' yard where my father told us the news and told us we had a decision to make. Her brain was destroyed but she had a lot of good parts left. What should we do with them? I became an organ donation booster at the age of seven.

He explained what her eyes, kidneys, skin, and other bits could do for people who were suffering. Of course, we all agreed: scavenge every usable part and give it away. In one of his finest moments, my father told us how some very good things could come from our loss. It helped.

When my father's prostate cancer stopped responding to treatment, his West Virginia doctor told him to put his affairs in order. Eighteen months, tops. He came out to stay with us and participated in an early clinical trial at UCSF. I can't evaluate the results of the trial, but Dad lived very well for many more years, before succumbing to lymphoma.

I recently heard from the doctor who ran the trial my father was in, and some of the subsequent trails to bring the drug to market. They have proven that their experimental treatment prolongs the lives of men with advanced prostate cancer. The interesting wrinkle is they aren't sure why. It looks like the treatment given to my father may be the first time an immunotherapy approach has tested out as safe and effective. Not a cure, sadly, but another medical tool.

It's not the same as restoring someone's sight or relieving them from dialysis or giving them a liver. But it's a good start. And, it helps.