I missed Dr. Wolin’s visit to Art but ran into him at the cafeteria. Dr. Wolin stands all of 5’ 8.” And weighs maybe 155 when wet. He crackles. If you could harness his energy, you could power our small apartment for a week. You will never find him in the cancer center at 8:00 am. We have, however, found him at midnight in the cancer center talking to the IT guy learning a useless (to him) intimate detail about the computer system. He runs the L.A. Marathon every year training only on a bike. It is the only running race he does. In the pocket of his white lab coat, is his “computer”, tri-folded paper placed in an order that only he knows. The stack is at least 4 inches thick. When he needs a phone number or to find the latest report, his fingers run over the vertical pile once, then they stop and he pulls out the paper he needs. He rarely pulls the wrong one. He is a smiling, welcoming, “happy to see you” kind of guy who is incapable of hiding the truth. When we met with him Tuesday, the worry was clear and present on his face. I was relieved (and surprised) to see his smiling body today. Dr. Wolin is “thrilled that Art looks so good! I threw a lot of drug at him and he is handling it so well! This is great news, great news!”
And indeed, Art is doing great. Let me make something clear that I didn’t in my last post. Art is not dying. This is a set back, a scary one indeed but he is not on his last leg, or arm or breath.