A Leap Of Faith

It was unknown to me that my "go to" friend had been doing some research and through a friend of a friend she had found another doctor she thought I might be interested in pursuing. His name was Dr. Kenneth McCredie and he was located in Houston, Texas. He was not only a leukemia specialist, he was one of the foremost researchers in the world in adult leukemia.

He was my glimmer of hope. Yes, at this point, I was hanging on for a glimmer. 

Time to go to the library and find out everything I could about this man.

He had a book that was published in 1983 entitled "Understanding Leukemia" which was coauthored with Cynthia Margolies. Dr. McCredie's credentials, listed on the back flap were impressive: 

"Kenneth B. McCredie. M.D., is Chairman, Medical and Scientific Advisory Committee for the Leukemia Society of America, and Internist and Professor of Medicine at the Department of Developmental Therapeutics for the University of Texas System Cancer Center, M.D. Anderson Hospital and Tumor Institute in Houston, Texas."

But what resonated with me more than anything was what he wrote in the Author's Notes at the beginning of the book.

"Today we can offer realistic hope for lengthy remissions and even probable cures for many leukemia patients, something that was not likely even ten years ago. We are optimistic, with reason, that leukemia will soon be conquered. I want to share with the reader many of the reasons for this optimism."

Realistic hope.

Probable cure.

Optimistic.

These words I loved. These words I needed to hear.

What was I to do next? Call his office and make an appointment.

Naive? Probably.

Hopeful? Absolutely.

Nervous? Yup.

House is quiet. Two kids at pre-school/school and one napping so guaranteed no interruptions.

[heart pounding and butterflies]

Dial the number.

The conversation begins:

"Dr. McCredie's office. How may I help you?"

"Hi. I'm calling from San Diego, CA and I'd like to make an appointment with Dr. McCredie please."

"Excuse me?"

Didn't you hear me?

"Um...I was wondering if I could please make an appointment with Dr. McCredie."

[long uncomfortable pause]

"Who is this?"

"My name is Moira and I'm calling from San Diego and I have leukemia and I would like to see Dr. McCredie."

Please, please can I just have an appointment?

"Sorry, do you know who Dr. McCredie is? He doesn't just see patients."  

[heavy emphasis on the word "see"]

Feeling very uncomfortable but keep talking. Keep talking. 

Don't. Give. Up.

"No, you don't understand. He has to see me. I was diagnosed with CML and I've been to a few doctors and they say I'm going to die. I know I'm younger than most people who are diagnosed with this type of leukemia. I'm only thirty-three years old. I have three young children."

"But he doesn't..."

[probably not good but now I'm talking over her] 

"You don't understand. I've been healthy all my life. I'm an athlete. I was a runner, a world class hurdler. I'm a vegetarian. I've done everything right. Please can I make an appointment with Dr. McCredie?"

[long pause]

[Note: I was so proud of myself because I didn't lose control.  I believe that persistence is the key. Plenty of pleading. No crying. I just really needed to make my point very clear. I don't recommend anyone do this today. There are procedures in place now that weren't in place in the 80's. I remind you again that, yes, this was the 80's.]

"Well, I'm telling you that Dr. McCredie does not take appointments. But...let me take your information. I will talk to him and get back to you as soon as I can."

I repeated everything I had already told her because I thought it was all very important for him to know. I didn't miss a thing, even the fact I was a hurdler. 
   
Which, I later found out, he had been too.

Coincidence? Nah.