Seven months ago I could barely walk a few steps. There were two occasions when something happened so that I could not coordinate my right leg. For days I needed a walker to move from my bed to the bathroom. I was dying from late stage soft tissue sarcoma. Then came news of Sti-571, followed by a hard pilgrimage to Portland Oregon from a little town I like to call Bristow America. I failed the blood test requirements for the clinical trial the first time, and Dr. Blanke gave me a second chance to pass the test two days later. I passed ever so slightly. Dr. Blanke admitted me to the trial. He told me recently that he had been tenuous and worried about me starting the trial. I was in terrible condition. But then some orange pills, containing a derivative of 2-phenylaminopyrimidine, changed my life.
