An Excerpt from “A Ribbon for Your Hair”

An Excerpt from “A Ribbon for Your Hair”

Editor’s Note: The following in from author Stephen Policoff, whose book A Ribbon for Your Hair is out today!

Introduction

When Stephen Policoff’s adopted daughter Anna was four, a freak accident sent her to the ER at Manhattan’s Saint Vincent Hospital. Within hours, he and his wife, Kate, were reeling from the shocking news that Anna had a mysteriously enlarged liver and spleen. Seven months and countless tests later, the Mayo Clinic delivered a devastating diagnosis—Niemann-Pick Type C, a rare and fatal genetic illness. Most children with it do not live past thirteen.

Refusing to let fear define them, Stephen and Kate—at Anna’s urging—adopted a second child from China, named her Jane, and worked to create as “normal” a family life as possible.

Then tragedy struck again. Kate was diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer, plunging the family into more rounds of treatment and hospital visits, ultimately leaving Stephen alone to raise Jane and care for Anna during her final years. The following is an excerpt from his memoir, A Ribbon for Your Hair: Loss. And More Loss. And How We (Sort of) Went On.

Excerpt

We went to the Mayo Clinic to get confirmation of what we feared

from Dr. Patterson, the leading expert in Niemann-Pick C. We also

went there because we were told that if there was to be a clinical trial of

OGT-918 (called Zavesca in the U.S.), it would be managed through

Dr. Patterson. But the clinical trial kept getting shunted aside. In May

2000, they told us it would probably be within a year. It turned out to

be four years. During that time, Anna’s gait became more wobbly, her

speech more slurred, her gorgeous eyes more unfocused.

But she went on being who she was—a kid who brought joy to

almost everyone who met her, a kid whom other kids flocked to, a kid

who never met a meal she didn’t enjoy, a game she didn’t want to play.

One day in June 2004, Kate received a call from the National Institutes

of Health. The Zavesca trial was on! Anna had been selected

to come to the NIH to see if she qualified for the trial. Kate canceled

a work trip, journeyed with Anna to the NIH, and for a few days we

felt optimistic.

Zavesca is an iminosugar—an analog of sugar. It is a common element

in vegetation, which may be one reason certain plants have medicinal

value. In humans, this chemical compound interferes with the

processing of one of the substances—glycosphingolipids—which is

responsible for the neurological damage of Niemann-Pick C.

It was already authorized by the FDA for use in Gauchers Disease,

another lysosomal storage disorder. Because it could cross the

blood-brain barrier it was the source of considerable hope in the NPC

community.

And there wasn’t a lot of hope otherwise.

Unfortunately, one of the key measurements to see if the drug actually

worked on NPC kids was eye movement, and Anna’s supranuclear

gaze palsy had progressed too far. The NIH researchers gently told

Kate that Anna could not be in the trial because it was no longer possible

to measure how well she did on the drug.

Kate came back from the NIH sunk in gloom. Anna, of course, was

thrilled to have had three days in some hotel with Mommy. She knew

Kate was sad, and this worried her a little, but she still said, “Had fun

there, Daddy!”

Gloom is my default setting, but for some reason, perhaps to counter

Kate’s dark mood, I found myself oddly upbeat. “She’s going to get

this drug,” I said. “And it’s going to help her.”

A few weeks later, Dr. Patterson called us. Although Anna was not

eligible for the trial, he was authorizing her to receive Zavesca anyway. “We believe it will help,” he told us. He emphasized that it was not a cure but a treatment which might—might—ease her symptoms. It

would plateau eventually, but might—might—give us a few more years.

The only catch: it cost $90,000/year and most health insurance

plans would not cover it.

Kate, who worked for Panasonic as a sales manager for 25 years, had

a contentious relationship with the male-dominated structure of that

vast corporation. But Panasonic had a self-funded healthcare plan. In

theory, if her bosses agreed to it, Zavesca could be provided to us. For a

week, she went back and forth between the desire to demand what we

needed and the fear of being swatted down by men she mistrusted.

“Should we mortgage the house?” Kate wondered. “I just don’t see

how I can get my asshole bosses to cover this!”

But I knew she would try; when Kate was convinced something

needed to be done, it got done. She just needed time to work herself up into a proper rage.

By August, she was determined.

“I am not going to cry,” she told me, “I am just going to tell them

they have to do it.”

She marched into her boss’s office that week. She did cry, she admitted

later, and no one at Panasonic had ever seen my incredibly strong-willed wife cry. Maybe that’s what sealed the deal? Her stonefaced boss blanched, shrugged.

“OK,” he stammered, “OK…we’ll figure out how to do it.”

They did.

For the next 10 years, we received a package of Zavesca every month.

Anna had to take six of the tiny white capsules a day. Of course, there

were side effects, notably nasty diarrhea, sometimes at wildly inopportune

moments.

“It’s not your fault,” we assured Anna. “It’s the drug’s fault.”

“Janejane, drug’s fault!” Anna would gleefully tell her sister, whenever

we had to clean up one of these thoroughly unpleasant accidents.

But within a few weeks, there were positive changes. Anna could

walk better, she actually ran across our yard upstate for the first time

in years; she had more energy, her eyes did not seem quite as glazed.

At first, we were hesitant to believe these changes, till Jane began

to cheer and chant “OGT-918! Doing things for Anna that are great!”

and friends who had not seen us for a while said, “What’s up with

Anna? Is she…better?”

She was. It didn’t last nearly long enough, but for the next three

years, there was just enough hope to briefly dispel the darkness.


About Stephen Policoff

Stephen Policoff’s first novel, Beautiful Somewhere Else, won the James Jones Award and was published by Carroll & Graf in 2004. His second novel, Come Away, won the Dzanc Award and was published by Dzanc Books in 2014. His third novel, Dangerous Blues, was published in2022 by Flexible Press. He is clinical professor of writing in Liberal Studies at NYU. Several pieces of this memoir were first published in december, Riddlebird, Entropy Literary Journal, and Oyster River Pages. A section on Anna’s joyous experience in music therapy won the Fish Short Memoir Award in 2012, and subsequently appeared on music therapy websites around the world.