Loved In Pieces (42 page)

He slid his key card into the door to the lab. We followed him.

“I’m Tom Durglo and this is…”

I immediately pulled
Dad
’s arm to interrupt him. “I’m sorry. Is it okay if I just go by CSY7?
As
an actress
I
have learned to guard my privacy. Since
you’re
working with the FBI, I hope my name and that of my mother’s be kept out
of your documentation if that’
s possible.”

“Sure. I’
ll call you CSY7
. It stands for
C
ase
S
tudy
Y
outh number seven
. I’ll let the FBI make its own choice, though
—
it isn’t my call.”

“Thank you. My mother also took the drug as an alternative to plastic surgery. She
started taking
it five years ago
. She
said that a fellow actor, who now has cancer, told her about it
. He started taking
it six years ago.”

Jack
protested,
“Irresponsible. Completely irresponsible! No wonder Mark
disappeared
. I can’t believe what he has done.”

I added, “And something my mom said yesterday that you should know. I have never felt sick, and my mom said that she and her friend also felt better, not worse, while on
x
-nib. Maybe
we all felt good because we all took an expensive immunity enhancement medicine that my mom said Mark sold exclusively to us. You were surprised yesterday that I felt fine while on
x
-nib. That must be why.”

His face changed. “Mark must have figured it out. After we developed
x
-nib, we worked together for years on an immunity enhancer to ease the pain of our HIV, AIDS, and cancer patients. Our results were inconclusive, and we parted ways. He must have decided to keep his solution secret to profit in the short term rather than develop the drug
through
FDA approval, marketing and distribution. Th
at
process takes years.”

Jack slouched. “He could have
kept
hundreds of thousands of people
from
suffering… I developed the drug to help cure people and the realization that it has been deba
sed literally nauseates me. It’
s deplorable.”

Jack gestured for us to take a seat.
Dad
put his arm around me as we walked to the desk. “I’ll just make some notes. Then we’ll get started.”

The office was a mess. File folders were everywhere. Several computer/microscope stations were cluttered with papers and empty water bottles. The back of the lab was full of cages of mice and of vi
al
s and bottles in refrigerated cases that looked like they came from the frozen food
a
isle of a grocery store.

“I’d like to get started right away. Can you tell me your story from when you started taking
x
-nib? I’ll listen, write questions and thoughts down while you talk, and then ask you questions after. I’ll try not to interrupt.”

I started,
“
M
y mom took it first and felt great. I
was thirteen. I
had painful periods and look
ed like I do
today
. I met with Dr. Mark at the end of April, the month I turned fourteen. I started taking the immunity medicine the first day we met and took it every day
since I
was
fourteen until this past March when I left it behind on
set
. I started taking the
x
-nib on May 1
st
, four years ago. I was on a cycle of 2 weeks on, 1 week off, for six months. I stopped having a period that summer before the end of the first six month mark, so maybe
four
months into it. He said he expected that I’d lose my menstrual cycle but that my period would return,
as well as
my cramping, when I got off of
x
-nib. I just figured I’d get off of it when I wanted to have kids. I did notice that he reduced the dosage amount every time we met for both medicines. I would have expected another dosage reduction for this six month cycle that should have started
today
. When I met him after I turned fifteen, I complained that I felt nauseous often, fati
g
ue, and felt like I couldn’t think. He told me to call him as soon as I felt severe headaches or problems with my vision. That happened right before I turned sixteen. It was like I had tunnel vision. My joints also hurt. My headaches were awful.
I asked him if I could just get off the medicine since the headaches were daily and so much worse than two days of cramping a month, but he said that I couldn’t just stop the medicine, that he would continue to reduce the dosages.
”

I added, “Oh, I forgot. I did take two Excedrins this morning
, out of habit
.
I hope that doesn’t mess up your tests.
”

“Do you have chronic headaches?”

“Yeah, just two months ago I had to take six pain killers per day. Now I take two.”

“How about your menstrual cycle? Has it returned?”

“No. That hasn’t changed.”

“What about your sexual drive?
I
rregular or nonexistent menses and loss of sexual drive is a symptom of hypopituitarism.”

“
Y
eah
, a
ctually I have only now felt aroused within the last month. I read about the sympto
ms and I had all of them,
” I responded, completely embarrassed.
“I had the blurry vision
and the morning nausea, too.”

He smiled, “I’m so sorry you have to go through this. It must be quite a shock. Should I talk with
your dad
about this now? I’m
pretty
sure
I know what’s going on with you
.”

“No, I want to know.”

“
You’re
describing symptoms of a non-functioning pituitary tumor. There is a loss of hormonal function with increasing damage: the first to go is the growth hormone, next is your LH and FSH which control your sexual and reproductive function, then TSH which releases your thyroid hormone and last your ACTH which controls adrenal function.
” He wrote more things down while I tried to understand what he just said.

Dr. Jack looked at me carefully,
gauging my reaction to the news
. I could te
ll, again, that his brain quickly switched between
two tracks.
“So your body is changing. The headaches
a
re caused by the
‘
mass
’
effect
from the
pituitary tumor.
Mark surely knew this. That must be why he reduced the dosage each cycle. I’m surprised he didn’t use hormone therapy. He must have had his reasons. Somehow
x
-nib caused pituitary failure and immediately created a non-functioning tumor. M
ost of these tumors are benign.
My son also had the tumor but we removed it successfully, with very minimal damage to the gland.
”

He
wrote
notes to himself
,
concentrating on figuring out what Mark knew at the same time that he continued talking, “I would like to run most of my tests on your blood. I’d like to do a hormonal evaluation. I’d also like to do an MRI with and without contrast. I need to x-ray your wrist; measure your bone growth. Would that be okay
with
you? I also need to test you for secondary malignancies. Some of the test
s
hurt. Would that be alright?”

I
swallowed, suppressing my fear
. My eyes watered and I couldn’t get the words out. I held
Dad
’s hand and nodded
.

Dad
got up and lifted me onto his lap as he sat back down. “I love you, my filly.” He took a deep breath. “Let’s get started,” he whispered to Dr. Jack.

We were there for most of the day. I was drained
—
literally.
Dad
ran into
the grocery store
on the way home while I waited in the car. He bought some feminine products for me just in case I menstruate
d
, groceries for himself for the week and some yummies for us to share after we ate dinner. After we
returned
to the house
we
ate our se
parate meals and shared dessert. Then
I went straight to bed.

Despite my tragic weekend,
I felt rested. I checked my phone. It was 4 am Monday morning. I
would work out at 5:30 am that day as I did every weekday
. I missed Manuel terribly. I
was
comforted that
Dad
wa
s in the guest suite
but
wished Manuel was
t
here in my bed.
I wanted
him to be my husband
so he could be in my bed
when
Dad
slept
downstairs.

Manuel wouldn’t be sleeping
with me
because, well, Dad certainly wouldn’t allow it and Manuel liked to study and then rest, study again, rest, and so on. He said it helped him learn better if he let his mind absorb the material in bursts. He had
finals
for the next three days but had nothing on Thursday or Friday.
Everyone in AP classes had already taken their exams.
My last two finals were on Thursday, back-to-back.

I went to the kitchen to get breakfast from the marked container in the fridge. I felt defeated but I needed to forget my worries and start my day. I had to exercise. I had to take my finals. I stood in front of the window in the living room.
I
found comfort from
the colors
in the canyon
.
It was dawn.

I went back to my room to put on my swimsuit so I could soak in the hot tub
and watch the
colors change in the valley as the
sun r
o
se
and fog came in
. I
would be
ready for today’s
finals as long as I calm
ed
my worries
about my health
.
Dad
was outside on the chaise when I went outside.

“Dad, did you sleep out here?”

“Come here
,
my filly.” He opened his arm and opened his blanket so I could snug
gle with him. I instantly felt loved
being next to him.

“I can’t forgive your mom because I can’t forgive myself for leaving you both. I let the hate I had for the industry consume me.
I should have been more balanced. Michelle urged me to find balance. She found a riding stable for sale that I could fix up and manage in Temescal Canyon. I didn’t even try. I gave her an ultimatum: it was either me or acting. That wasn’t fair. Look what I drove her to do…”

He couldn’t finish. He held me. I comforted him. “Dad, everyone is respons
ible for their own actions. It’
s not your fault.”

“My filly, life is much more complicated than that. Yes, we
’
re responsible for our own actions, but our actions are always
in reaction to the situation.
When
a horse bucks off a rider, it’
s rarely the horse
’
s fault.
The more stressful th
e situation
the more the reasons to take action
get blurred with emotion
. I left you both
,
which was…wrong.
But I had to get out of here, out of L.A., this culture.
Michelle was desperate
and alone with you
.
She was stressed and made a horrendous decision.
”

He didn’t want to talk anymore. “I’m sorry,
Lia
. I love you and am sorry I let you down.”

There was no need to pretend that he didn’t let me down because it was certainly true that he did. I missed him every day since he left. I needed him for the last five years
,
and a summer
every year or brief trip to Palo Alto or the weekly phone call just didn’t cut it.