Racing from Death and Celebrating Life

Three years ago I was diagnosed with Indolent Non-Hodgkin's B-Cell Lymphoma. “Indolent” is the magic word here, as it means lazy, idle, or sluggish. And thank God it’s a couch-potato cancer or I would have an aggressive, severe disease that would probably have already killed me.

I recently moved with my husband to Aiken, South Carolina, and needed a new house, a new driver’s license, new insurance, and new doctors. I hated giving up my Maryland oncologist, Doctor Selonick, as he is a brilliant cancer doctor who teaches medical students and oncology staff at Johns Hopkins.  

Oncology Pavilion at Aiken Regional Medical Center

There are only two oncologists in Aiken, a Turk and a Pakistani, both of whom received their degrees in their native countries. My new primary doctor, a woman named Doctor Kulik, who I still haven’t met, referred me to the Pakistani, Doctor Ahmed Gill. I had misgivings. 

I got an appointment and met Doctor Gill. Swarthy, with a beard, he had wonderful intelligent eyes and a kind face. He was astonished when I said my lymphoma had presented itself as bilateral tumors in my lungs. Nowhere else. My case was so unusual it was presented to Johns Hopkins in 2010, so I guess I have to cut Gill a little slack.

Gill was concerned that I’d had only chest scans during the last three years. He insisted I have a PET scan to make sure the cancer had not popped up elsewhere. 

PET Scan Machine. Just love being swallowed by this thing!

“PET scan: a positron emission tomography scan. A unique type of imaging test that helps doctors see how organs and tissues inside your body are actually functioning. The test involves injecting a very small dose of a radioactive chemical, called a radiotracer, into the vein of your arm. The tracer travels through the body and is absorbed by the organs and tissues being studied.” 

As I understand it the chemical also contains sugar and cancer loves sugar. I believe that any organ with cancer lights up like a carnival. Now you have another reason to cut back on sugar: cancer loves to eat sugar.

The test was scheduled, and the waiting began. Wait for the scan, wait for the results. Wait, wait, wait, all the while feeling heavier and more frightened. A week after the scan, I cooled my heels in the waiting room with other cancer patients. Two cups of coffee later, I was shown into an examination room by a male nurse who was holding my chart. My chart! He put the papers onto a small desk outside my room and closed the door. I waited. I sat in the chair, I stood up, I opened the door and peeked at the chart on the table. Two nurses came down the hall. I scurried back inside. 

I sat in that room like a sheep and then I thought, “What would Nikki do?” I darted from the room, grabbed the chart, sat down, and read the radiology report. 

No cancer in the body, except the radiologist noted the middle lobe of the right lung had a 1.3 centimeter nodule. The uptake on the radioactive sugar was fairly minor, but of some concern.

Okay, this was the old one, right? I’d had a bunch of tumors and Selonick had treated me with Rituxan. The drug and knocked out all the tumors save one, which was essentially just residue. Selonick’s last test had shown a withered shrunken thing compared to the first reading in 2010. But damn it, I couldn't remember the last recorded size. Was the current 1.3 bigger? Was the cancer growing again? 

I didn’t know the answers to those questions. I did know I didn't want to be caught with the chart.

I opened the door and scanned the hall. Nobody. I whisked the chart back onto the table and disappeared into my room and waited some more.

When Doctor Gill came in, he told me what I already knew. I gave him an okay-and-this-means-what-exactly look, and I got nothing. He said he would have to compare this latest test to the records from Maryland.

“You mean you have not received my records from Maryland?” I was incredulous. “You haven’t spoken to Doctor Selonick?” 

Apparently Gill had wanted to get the PET scan results before he did anything. But he showed himself to be a pretty cool dude. He picked up the phone and called, Selonick, although I could tell by his expression he never expected to reach another oncologist so easily. But Selonick took the call and the two doctors had a ten minute conversation, including sociable facts like Selonick’s wife is from Sumter, South Carolina. Selonick is very personable that way. And I knew he probably was in an examining room with an anxious patient who was ready to strangle him while he spoke to Gill. God knows he took plenty of calls in the examining room when I was his patient. 

I almost hugged Gill when I heard him ask Selonick, “What do you recommend?” No prima donna in this Aiken office. He was more concerned about his new patient than playing a game of “who’s the best doctor?” Turns out that the last time I had a chest scan the tumor residue was 1.5 centimeters. The miserable little monster is still shrinking! Gill and Selonick agreed the best course of action is to wait six months, take another chest scan and if all is fine, wait another six months and so on.

I got in the car, drove myself home, and when Rosco met me at the door, I bust into tears.  

THE NEXT MORNING: What a difference a day makes.

The Darley two-year-olds "backing up" on their way to the gate.

The next day I got up very early, put Rosco in the car, and off we went to the Aiken’s "Breakfast at the Gallops" event. 

Aikenites on the rail watching the youngsters gallop.

I met some great new people, 

The legendary Cot Campbell, who moved to Aiken 26 years ago.

Two of Cot Campell's stretch their legs on the Aiken mile track.

celebrated life, and Rosco vacuumed up stray biscuit crumbs. He also got to see a lot of horses, meet a Pomeranian, two Skye Terriers and a Welsh Corgi. A most excellent experience for both of us.

But I think the best thing I saw was afterwards. I stopped at the Darley stables and saw their two-year-olds turned out together, just being horses, not locked into stalls 23 hours a day. Awesome!

A paddock at Darley Stables, Aiken, SC.

One of the Darley Barns at Aiken.

RACING FROM DEATH Goes to The Black-Eyed Susan.

I packed an optimistic forty books, two pens, and my cash box. I stuck a feather fascinator on my head, a Pimlico parking pass on the rearview, and drove north to Baltimore for black-eyed Susan Day.
 
The Black-Eyed Susan is a horse race with a purse of $300,000. It would be run that afternoon, followed by the million-dollar Preakness the next day. The Black-Eyed Susan is Maryland’s derby for three-year-old fillies, and is named after the Maryland state flower. It’s a day of festivity, excellent racing, and fashionable hats. Please note that the boys get the million-dollar purse and the girls get the three hundred thousand-dollar purse. Some things never change.

Men at work.

 
Pimlico was blessed with fabulous, sunny weather the whole weekend. That special mix, when it’s not too hot, not too cool, and the air is clear.  I walked into a grandstand that buzzed with excitement. I’d been lucky enough to be invited to sign my new mystery “Racing from Death.” After arranging my books at the table provided by Pimlico, I realized the key to my cash box was still in the car. It is possible I cursed.


An extremely nice Sasscer Hill fan, named Natalie, volunteered to watch my stuff. I dashed out the entrance, then fought like a fish swimming upstream against the incoming crowd, before jogging across acres of pavement to reach the car. I snatched up the pesky key, and dashed back to the grandstand. I composed myself and sat. 

A Wendy Wooley Photo.

Several other authors were signing that day. Next to me was Ann Hambleton, with her children’s book, “Raja.” 

Ann Hambleton 

Nearby were authors Martha Dugan Hopkins, and Phil Dandrea. My friend Frank Vespe, the man who runs the “That’s Amore Stable” syndicate and racing blog, stopped by.

Frank Vespe and Sasscer

  


A stranger stopped by and bought a book. He handed me his card. His name was Thomas and he was small, wiry, and wired. He asked me to sign the book and to write “Go Army.” I did. I started to hand him his book, and he said, “Can you do one more thing? Can you write ‘major?’ I’m a major, in the Army, Major Tom.”

In certain instances I don’t bother to restrain myself. I looked him in the eye and sang, “Ground control to Major Tom.” A line from the old David Bowie song “Space Oddity.” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uhSYbRiYwTY


He said, “I get that a lot.”


I said, “Why am I not surprised,” and handed him his book. He promptly blasted off toward the track.  



A little later, two photographers with lenses the size of Zenyatta stopped before my table and started shooting pictures. I stared at them in full blonde-moment non-recognition. Amazing racing photographer, Matt Wooley had to remind me who he was. Ah, duh. Only the guy that took my all time favorite photo of me and Paula Marie Weglarz.

Me and Paula Marie! Keeneland 2010.

And Matt's adorable, super charged wife, Wendy. I’m so mad I neglected to take their picture. The two of them together blaze with energy. Awesome couple!



The thing about book signing is, you can’t leave your table. Not if you want to sell copies. Since I was coming back for the Preakness the next day, I planned to rocket out of there mid afternoon to avoid the worst of Baltimore Friday afternoon rush hour. I did, however, wait around for the highlight of my day, the arrival of TV personality Donna Barton Brothers who was signing her book, "Inside Track: Insiders Guide to Horse Racing." 

Donna Brothers Barton

If you’ve ever watched a triple crown race or the Breeder’s Cup you have seen Donna. She is the gal followed by the NBC camera truck, who rides out on the track with her microphone and interviews the jockey as he gallops the winner back toward the grandstand and winner’s circle. Donna used to be a jockey and she really knows her stuff.


After I got a picture with Donna, I hit the road.

Donna and Sasscer

 Late that afternoon a filly named “In Lingerie,” won the Black-Eyed Susan. By the time she ran and with a name like that, you think  the fellows deep in their beers had bet her off the board? 

In Lingerie winning the Black Eyed Susan

HEADING FOR THE PREAKNESS: Me and Everyone Else!

KY Derby winner, I'll Have Another galloping at Pimlico

Derby runner-up Bodemeister stretching his legs

Kentucky Derby winner, "I'll Have Another," is hoping to do exactly that on Saturday when he runs in the Preakness. It is also rumored that Bob Baffert's runner-up "Bodemeister" has vowed not to get baffled again at the wire.


Trainers, grooms, gamblers, exercise riders, jockeys, and sports writers are anxiously studying the stats of all the high dollar races to be run at Pimlico during the upcoming Preakness weekend.


Being entirely female, it's most important to me that the horses are happy, nobody gets hurt, and the fascinator I ordered arrives in time so I can wear it to the Preakness!

On Friday, May 18, Black Eyed Susan Day, I will be signing copies of  my two mystery novels, “Full Mortality,” and “Racing from Death.”  Catch me from noon to 2:00 p.m. in the Pimlico grandstand. 

An entirely different hat will be worn while signing the two novels. It wouldn't do to wear the same fascinator twice. Not on Preakness weekend.

I'm delighted to report NBC and TVG news personality, Donna Brothers Barton, will show up at 2:00 p.m. in the grandstand to sign her new book on handicapping. I look forward to seeing her again. 


My sister, Lillian, bought me a Preakness ticket! On Saturday, I have a seat in the Turfside Terrace where I can watch Donna Barton gallop by on her track pony followed by the NBC camera truck.

Donna Brothers Barton covering the Preakness.

 I can scream as "Bodemeister" and "I’ll Have Another" battle it out down the stretch. Unless an unknown explodes into the picture.


I am a bit emotional about these two days at Pimlico, the Maryland track where I won my first horse race with a home-bred colt named Sea Surge. An amazing full circle, a journey that led to my third, just completed Nikki Latrelle novel, “The Sea Horse Trade.”


 Maryland racing and every racetrack provide a microcosm for life. In one place at one time, there is greed, crime, treachery, cruelty, love, heroism, bravery, determination, and underdogs who reach deep into their hearts to get the win. Terrific fuel for the writing of novels!

THE FIRST WIN!