cap wrote:
Stem cell, not embryonic stem cells, research has been making a lot of headway. Why not just stick with that plan?
Cap, that's a fair question. If I were a man with your convictions in your current situation, I might be asking the same.
As I'm sure you've read, embryonic stem cells are believed to be more viable than adult stem cells for research purposes due to their ability to adapt to and assume the characteristics of any part of the human body. Therefore, scientists believe that research success will be greater and quicker with embryonic stem cells.
But, for purposes of this discussion, let's assume that you are a man in a different situation.
Let's say your wife had a strapping baby boy who grew like a weed and was crawling, then toddling, then running before you knew it. You got to coach his first T ball team, coach 2-3 years on his soccer team and even watched a year of flag football. You got to enjoy your son at Cub Scouts and even watch him "cross the bridge" into the Boy Scouts. You're feeling pretty good living the stereotypical American dream raising your son.
But a funny thing begins to happen. You notice your son has started to lag behind when running during his athletics. It's getting to the point that you have to start riding his butt about hustling! (I mean that's a father's responsibility). Then you notice that your son is starting to trip over his own feet while walking. (No big deal; he's just in a growing spurt and his feet are outpacing the rest of him - not to worry)
The thing is, you do worry. You try and ignore it, deny it and ignore it some more, but you can't because it's not natural how he has to use the banister to get up the stairs to his room, or how he has to use the coffee table or sofa to get up from playing in the floor. So, then you take him to the pediatrician where you become terrified because the pediatrician isn't telling you that you're being an overprotective parent, In fact, the pediatrician let's you know without saying it that you've got trouble ahead because he makes an appointment for you to see the pediatric neurologist that same afternoon!
The pediatric neurologist runs his diagnostics and tells you, while your boy is in the waiting room, that he's pretty sure that your son has muscular dystrophy, but that he can't know what type until more invasive tests are run. Therefore, at that moment, you don't know if your boy is going to live or die.
So you take your son down to the Scottish Rite hospital and get a battery of tests run, and they "kind" of confirm your worst fears. Your son has muscular dystrophy. There not sure of which type, but they are pretty sure it's a type that's nonlethal. They assure you your boy could possibly live into his 30s!
Now your boy is pretty smart. After all, he's 10 now and sharp as a tack. He knows something is wrong because of all the doctors and all of the tests and he asks his Dad for some answers. So now Cap, you get to sit down with your son and explain to him that he has a disease that will slowly rob him of his muscles, that eventually he'll be unable to run, ride his bike or even walk. You'll have to tell him that one day he'll go into a wheelchair and then, why you're looking in your son's confused and terrified face after he asks you a question no son should have to ask his father, you'll lie through your teeth and tell him no, he's not going to die.
You'll get to watch your son slowly decay. You'll get to take him to the hospital every six months and watch the same tests run and witness how he is getting weaker. You'll spend money that you don't have to take him to Baltimore to the National Institute of Health to see if they can provide the miracle you're looking for. You'll research the internet to uncover studies being performed in Ohio, Australia and Brazil that you can send your boy's biopsy samples to see if possibly they can provide that miracle.
And you'll want that miracle Cap. You'll want that miracle because it breaks your heart each year when you see your boy get so excited because the Jerry Lewis Telethon has raised record amounts. Your boy figures that that much money should allow a cure to be found most any day - but of course it doesn't. And, it'll break your heart even more when the telethon comes around and your boy doesn't say a word... because he's beginning to lose his hope.
You see your boy is 14 now and he's one year into being in a wheelchair. His buddies, who used to play at the house all the time come by occasionally to play video games, but now they have discovered girls, or they are playing sports, or doing any number of things that are easier to do without a kid in a wheelchair to bog things down. And then your heart starts to break all the more, because your boy who was so outgoing, so well-liked is beginning to become withdrawn. He just doesn't have that much to say to anybody anymore, including you.
But Cap, you are his Dad and you love him unconditionally. You spend even more money that you don't have to buy a van with a ramp that can get him around in his electric wheelchair because he can't even handle his manual wheelchair anymore. Remember Cap, your boy continues to get weaker and weaker with each passing year. You know that time is running out. And even if he gets weaker, but doesn't pass away before you do, you have to then ask yourself; Who will take care of him after I'm gone? Will he be okay?
So, I ask you Cap. If there's a chance that embryonic stem cells could provide an answer even one month before adult stem cells, wouldn't you want that extra 30 days for your boy?
I do, and that's why I'm unwilling to "stick to the plan."