Strong Medicine

EPILOGUE

In the 747's first-class section the trappings of luncheon had been cleared away. Andrew, after leaving his seat briefly, returned. He told Celia, "I was thinking in there"-he waved a hand in the direction of the airplane's toilets-"how we take so many things for granted. When Lindbergh made the first successful transatlantic flight, which isn't all that long ago, he had to stay in his seat and urinate into a flask.”

Celia laughed.”I'm glad that much has changed.”

She regarded her husband quizzically.”Is that all? I sense some philosophy aborning.”

"You're right. I've been thinking about your business-pharmaceuticals. I had a thought or two you might find cheering.”

"I could use a little of that.”

"People like you, hemmed in by pressures," Andrew said, "get so close to what you're doing that there are times-and I think this is one-when you're apt to see the storm clouds only, and forget the rainbows.”

"Remind me of some rainbows.”

"That's easy. You brought one to me when our life together started. Lotromycin. It's still in place, as good a drug as when you let me be the first to use it--effective, lifesaving, needed in a doctor's toolbox. Of course, no one talks about Lotromycin any more it isn't news; it's been around too long. But add it to others from then onward and you have a cornucopia of drugs, so many of them since the 1950s that medicine's undergone a revolution. I've lived through it, seen it happen.”

Andrew considered, then went on, "When I graduated in medicine seven years after World War 11, most of the time when we had sick patients all you could do was provide support, then stand aside and hope. There were so many diseases which doctors had no weapons to fight, it used to be frustrating. Now that isn't true. There's a whole arsenal of drugs to fight with and to cure. Your industry provided them.”

"I'm hearing music," Celia said.”Play more.”

'Okay, take hypertension. Twenty years ago there were a few, limited ways to treat it. Often they didn't work. Lots of times hypertension was a killer. Now, treatment through drugs is unlimited and sure. The incidence of stroke, which hypertension caused, is down by half, and dropping. Drugs are preventing heart attacks. They've stopped tuberculosis and ulcers, improved the diabetic patient's life. In every other field of medicine the same is true. So many good drugs. I prescribe them every day.”

"Name some.”

He rattled them off.”Corgard, Procardia, Indocin, Orinase, Thorazine, Tagamet, Lasix, Tofranil, Apresoline, Staidpace, Mandol, Prednisone, Levodopa, Cytoxan, Isoniazid, Peptide 7.”

Andrew stopped.”You want more?" "That should hold us," Celia said.”And the point you're making”, "The point is that the successful, useful drugs outnumber losers. For every loser-Thalidomide, Selacryn, Montayne, Oraflex, Bendectin; those and the other few failures you bear about on TV news and '60 Minutes'-there have been a hundred winners. And it isn't just the pharmaceutical companies who are gainers. The big winners are people-those who have health instead of sickness, those who live instead of die.”

Andrew mused, then added, "If I were making a speech, which I suppose I am to an audience of one, I'd say that what your industry has done, my love-with all its faults, despite its critics-is provide a benefaction for mankind.”

Stop there!" Celia said.”That was, so beautiful, so right, anything more might spoil it. You have cheered me.”

She smiled.”Now I'm going to close my eyes and think.”

She did. Ten minutes later, opening her eyes, Celia said, "Andrew dear, there are things I want to say.”

She paused.”You've been many things to me; now you're my confessor. First, I am responsible for those bad events with Hexin W. In my mind there isn't any doubt. If I'd acted sooner some deaths might not have happened. I didn't ask tough questions when I ought. I took for granted what my own experience should have warned me not to. I became heady, a little drunk with power and success-so buoyed by Peptide 7, then Hexin W, that I overlooked the obvious. In a way, it was part of what happened with Sam about Montayne. I understand that better now.”

He said, "I hope you don't intend to say all that in court.”

Celia shook her head.”I'd be foolish if I did. I've already said that if I'm indicted, brought to court, I'll fight. But I needed to admit my guilt to someone, which is why I'm telling you.”

"And Vince Lord-if he's indicted too?" "We'll give him legal help. I've decided that. But otherwise he'll take his chances.”

Andrew said gently, "Despite everything you've told me-and I agree that most is true--don't be too hard on yourself You're human like the rest of us. No one has a perfect record. Yours is better than most.” "Not good enough, though. But I know I can do better, and an experience like this one helps.”

Celia's voice had regained her old, crisp matter-of-factness.”Those are reasons I want to go on, and why I intend to. I'm only fifty-three. There's a lot more I can do at Felding-Roth.”

"And you will," he said.”The way you always have.”

There was a silence. Then after a while, when he looked sideways, he saw that Celia had closed her eyes once more and was asleep. She slept until the flight was losing altitude for landing. Awakening, she touched Andrew's arm. He turned to face her. "Thank you, my dearest," Celia said.”Thank you for everything.”

She smiled.”I've thought some more, and I've made up my mind. Whatever happens, I'm coming through. I'm going to win.”

Andrew said nothing-just took her hand. He was still holding it when they landed at New York.