THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, January 24, 1997 TAG: 9701240535
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
SERIES: SICKLE CELL DISEASE: QUEST FOR A CURE
Christopher Smith returned home Thursday from St. Jude's Children's
Research Hospital in Memphis with no sign of the disease that once
threatened his life. While the 17-year-old still has a lengthy
recovery ahead, his homecoming brought smiles to a family that had
been forced to live apart for four months while he underwent a bone
marrow transplant.
SOURCE: BY DEBRA GORDON, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: 103 lines
Carrying a shopping bag filled with medicine, 17-year-old Christopher Smith walked off a plane Thursday afternoon - older, taller and free of the sickle cell disease that has plagued him since birth.
In his characteristic subdued manner, Christopher showed little excitement at finally coming home after spending four months in Memphis undergoing a bone marrow transplant to cure his genetic disease.
``I feel good, of course,'' he said, sliding into an airport chair.
Thursday marked 120 days since Christopher underwent the highly risky, experimental procedure at St. Jude's Children's Research Hospital with marrow donated by his 11-year-old sister, Christina.
Although it will be at least another year before doctors officially declare him cured, recent tests showed no signs of the disease, which causes normally round red blood cells to deform into a sickle shape. The cells clog tiny blood vessels, cutting off the blood supply and causing organ damage and bouts of severe pain.
Thursday was a homecoming marked with typical Smith family confusion: Christopher's father, Roosevelt, was still sleeping at home after working all night when the plane from Memphis arrived.
But he made it from Virginia Beach to Norfolk in record time, arriving at the airport still pulling up his pants and tying his shoes to bring his wife, Norma, Christopher and 4-year-old son Aaron home for good. Aaron had been in Memphis with his mother since Thanksgiving.
``Relieved,'' said Roosevelt, summing up his feelings at having his family back together. Relieved that he wouldn't have to play single parent to Christina and 8-year-old Ashlee. Relieved that someone else could help cook, check the homework, retrieve the dog from the pound. Relieved that his son was coming back healthy - with a head full of fuzzy black hair and sideburns.
His relief couldn't compare to Norma's. After four months in a hotel room, eating take-out food, hauling dirty laundry to the hospital, spending hours in clinics waiting for doctors, tests and transfusions, she was giddy at the thought of her own kitchen, a two-story house, a washing machine and dryer.
``I just want to lie down on my own bed and lie there all day,'' she said.
For all the joy of Thursday's reunion, both parents knew that Christopher's ordeal was not over.
He still has a catheter, surgically implanted in his chest in Memphis, through which he receives medications several times a day. He will make weekly visits to the hematology/oncology clinic at Children's Hospital of The King's Daughters for tests.
And, because his weakened immune system places him at great risk for infection, he won't return to school for at least a year, and isn't supposed to be around crowds. That means no movies, no malls, no teen-ager parties. Leaving the house means wearing the pink face mask to filter germs. In six weeks, he and his mother return to Memphis for more tests.
But Thursday was a day to revel in just being home.
``Let me outside. I want to feel that Virginia air, I know it smells so sweet,'' Norma said, lugging bags down the long airport corridor.
Waiting at home was a small, table-top Christmas tree, white lights glowing softly in the late afternoon dusk. A pile of presents encircled it - for the family Christmas the Smiths missed last year.
Aaron immediately tore into the package bearing his name, unearthing a new sweatsuit and a Pocahontas game.
But Christopher, home for the first time since early September, bounded up the stairs to see his room. And immediately began yelling at his sister about the mess he found there.
``It's hazardous to my health,'' he complained downstairs to his father, concerned about the germs dirt brings.
Roosevelt grinned. ``Oh yeah? It's not any worse than when you left.''
``Don't worry,'' Norma said, trying to hold Aaron back from destroying the rest of the presents, ``Mommy will clean it.''
As his brothers roller-skated in the foyer, Christopher sat at the dining room table, set as if for a dinner party with lace tablecloth and pink candles, and thought about the past four months.
He left Norfolk an extremely sick boy, one who required blood transfusions every month, was hospitalized with every fever and had a life expectancy of less than 45 years.
He returned home with a future.
Did he feel different? Was he changed?
``It wasn't like I was dead or nothing before,'' he said, his eyes scanning the room. ``I didn't expect a change. I could win a million dollars or 10 million dollars and I'd still be the same old Christopher.'' ILLUSTRATION: [Color Photo]
BILL TIERNAN/
The Virginian-Pilot
Roosevelt Smith greets his son, Christopher, at Norfolk
International Airport on Thursday. Christopher, born with sickle
cell disease, underwent a bone marrow transplant with marrow donated
by his 11-year-old sister, Christina, right.
BILL TIERNAN
The Virginian-Pilot
Norma Smith walks with her son, Christopher, after arriving Thursday
in Norfolk. She and her 4-year-old son, Aaron, had lived in Memphis,
Tenn., for months while Christopher underwent an experimental
treatment for sickle cell disease. ``I just want to lie down on my
own bed and lie there all day,'' she said.
KEYWORDS: SICKLE CELL