“But is that enough?” I asked her. “Am I strong enough to watch someone I love suffer for years without hope of it ever getting better?”
“Yes,” Jane said without preamble.
I stared at her.
She shrugged. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. You were there for Jack and Renee in a way the rest of us weren’t. Not even Dad. You stayed up there on that hill with him while he fell apart after her death, and you helped to pull him out of his grief.”
I leaned my head against the tub and closed my eyes, thinking back. “You make what I did sound so easy, Jane. You’re right. The rest of you weren’t there. You don’t know what it was like. It was fucking terrible. Renee was so sick. And in the end, there was nothing we could do to keep her there with us. After she passed, there were days I thought Jack would die from heartbreak. The only saving grace was that she went so quickly at the end. How much worse would it have been if it had dragged out for years?”
I turned to look at her. “That’s what I can’t stop thinking about. You seem so sure of my strength, but the thought of watching Ben remain physically healthy while parts of his brain die off terrifies me in a way that I can’t think past.”
She frowned. “But you can’t be sure that’ll happen. He might only have minor symptoms.”
“He’s twenty-eight, Jane. And the doctors already found behavioral and psychological problems they think are directly related to his current level of tau tangles.”
“That’s no reason to give up hope. Someone might discover a way to treat it. Wasn’t there something…hang on.” She shifted sideways and pulled her phone from her pocket. Her fingers tapped on the screen for a few minutes. “Here. Found it,” she said, shoving it toward me. “There’s a doctor at Georgetown that thinks he can slow CTE way down.”
My eyes flew over the article. The doctor had discovered that a leukemia medication, already approved by the FDA, could work in conjunction with others to reduce the toxic buildup of tau proteins in the brain. It wouldn’t cure the existing damage the tau had caused, as brain regeneration was still so far outside of our medical capabilities, but it would stop the disease from causing more deterioration. Ben might never have to worry about further memory loss or violent mood swings.
“I have to send this to him,” I said, texting myself the link. “He might not have seen it yet.”
“That’s what I was wondering,” Jane said.
I turned sideways and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you so much for this.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, patting my back.
I let her go and dug my phone out of my handbag.
Ben,I texted,I’m sorry for maybe overstepping here. I know you still need your space, and I fully respect that, but I’m not sure if you’ve seen this study or not. It’s brand new. There’s a doctor at Georgetown that thinks he’s found a way to clear tau buildup from the brain.
His response came much later that night, after I got home from my brother’s party and had given up all hope of hearing back from him.
You’re not overstepping. Please don’t apologize. I hadn’t seen the study. Thank you. We’re looking into it now.
Three days passed, and every time I picked up my phone, I wanted to text him back. I was dying to know what he and his parents had found out, or if their foundation could fund further clinical trials, since, for some mind-boggling reason, the doctor who had made the discovery was having trouble raising money for testing.
You’d think with how much CTE had dominated headlines recently, organizations and institutions would jump at the chance to have their names tied to a study that actually promised hope. If you couldn’t count on people wanting to help other people because it was the right thing to do, you could almost always count on people wanting to help other people because it made them look good in the process.
It made me wonder if the USFL was putting pressure on companies and entities tonotfund the research. Or if those same enterprises didn’t want to fund it because they were worried about attracting negative attention from such a juggernaut like the USFL. The more I learned about the league, the more I’d come to think about them in the same way I did big tobacco and pharmaceutical companies. The bullying, the lying, the coercion, funding “alternative fact” studies, the bribery. It was all there.
I’d never watch another football game again. Between my disgust at the league and how hard it would be to witness every single tackle, wondering if that was the one that resulted in a player having TBI or CTE, I was done with the sport.
***
Friday night, my phone rang. I had the TV on, but I wasn’t really watching it. Just like I hadn’t really been doing any of the activities I’d attempted recently, whether it was painting or reading or shoveling. My mind had been elsewhere, preoccupied with thoughts of Ben and the Georgetown study.
What if he was able to take part in the next phase of trials? What if they successfully halted his progression of CTE?And more importantly, what if they didn’t? I’d been running circles in my mind, always coming back to worst-case scenario, stuck in a loop that I couldn’t pull myself out of.
Thankful for this momentary distraction, I picked up my phone and saw a text from Megan.
We’re moving in a few weeks. To an apartment that allows pets. Dad said business is slow and you haven’t been doing too good. Want to come down and help us? We’ll pay you in beer and pizza.
Yes. Thank you so much,I texted back.Are we going puppy shopping while I’m there?!?!?!?!
Maaaaaaaybe,Megan answered.
My phone chimed with a text from someone else, and I laughed aloud reading it, for the first time in weeks. It was from Stacey.
