Ch. 38 (A COOKIE for PUPPY GIRL) –  Surviving Chamonix in the Alps^[1]

Our European Operation was expanding as we were successfully supporting Gilead’s HIV study that we had been awarded a year prior and now one of our other local clients, Matrix Pharmaceuticals, was expanding their HIV trials into Europe. Much to my delight and good fortune, their Senior Clinical Director was still Jayne, the woman who had mentored me at Triton Biosciences more than a decade earlier and certainly someone I held in very high regard. As well, my friend and confidant, Becky, also from our Triton days was taking the clinical lead for Matrix and luckily, both had great respect for what Clinimetrics had already accomplished for their clinical program, so they allowed us to bid on their European trial. We immediately expanded our EU operation over the next two months, adding employees in France, Germany, Italy and the U.K., all strategic sites for Matrix’ multi-center investigational study sites. Eventually, we were awarded the project and our Director of EU Operations planned and orchestrated an elaborate Investigational Meeting, to be held in Geneva (Switzerland) in late January (1997).

We decided that Ravae would accompany me to a Clinimetrics ‘planning meeting’ in our London office with our newly hired employees, and to be honest, it was the perfect distraction for Ravae and me as we were coming to grips with our failed effort with in-vitro fertilization. That said, we flew to London so I could meet up with my Director of European Operations and our newly formed team of CRA’s as we prepared for the upcoming Investigator Meeting in Geneva the following week. Meanwhile, for the next several days, we were able to split our time between work and play as Ravae would visit the museums and art galleries during the day and then we would venture out for a spirited evening later on. I was pleased that the meeting had been excellently planned down to the last detail, including interpreters in four different languages (i.e., French, German, Italian and Flemish) besides English for the diverse group of international physicians participating in the clinical trial.We arrived in Geneva and the meeting went perfectly over the next two days, with no ‘gotchas’ to report. While I was busy with the meeting, Ravae quickly learned the local train schedule and visited several famous landmarks including the medieval Chateau de Chillon castle in Montreux. After the event ended, I was invited to meet with the Senior Management Team for Matrix at which time the VP of Medical Affairs thanked Clinimetrics personally and then he invited Ravae and me to accompany his small snow-skiing expedition to Mont Blanc on Chamonix, located in the French Alps and the picturesque site of the 1924 Winter Olympics. Of course, we joined in, boarding an excursion bus for the 90-minute drive to the ski lodge. We quickly rented skis and took a couple of easier runs at lower elevation to avoid the fog above. Around 11 am the skies cleared so we rode the famous Auguille du Midi cable car to its top elevation of 3,842meters. After exploring the viewpoints, we got back on the gondola to descend but after speaking with some of the local skiers, we were informed that there was an ‘intermediate’ run if we exited a bit lower on the mountain. Even then, I should have been more skeptical because Ravae is a far more accomplished skier than me and I had no business even considering it, but bravado got the best of me. We had descended about 500 meters down a gentle slope and came around a several hundred-foot rock-faced wall when I suddenly realized that we had made a horrible miscalculation, as we had clearly passed the ‘point of no return’. For the next five hours, we slowly worked our way down a narrow pathway, with a mountain wall to our left and a steep cliff to the right. I learned that ‘off piste’ means that the snow is not well-groomed so we battled deep powder covering steep moguls. Of course, when only an occasional (expert Nordic) skier would pass by, I knew we were royally screwed. One Nordic woman did stop to offer us encouragement, telling us to ‘Be Brave!’ at which time I asked her if they had a ski patrol that did a final ‘sweep’ run at the end of the day and her response of ‘maybe’ was less than encouraging. Thankfully the skies remained clear all afternoon but we did not reach the lodge until twilight, as the sun had set but darkness was not quite upon us. Our bus had been waiting for us for more than an hour for the return trip to Geneva, but at that point, I was just happy to be off the mountain and would have gladly stayed in the resort and found an alternate way home the next day.

In reflection, I freely admit that I was not only frightened but I also experienced pangs of JEALOUSY toward our skiing party because I could see them enjoying drinks at an outdoor bar at the resort below while waiting for us to return. Unfortunately, there was a half-mile of treachery separating us from our destination. It is often said that, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger” so, we chose to believe that overcoming this hardship had built the necessary resilience to handle the upcoming challenge of IVF – ROUND TWO!

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^[1]Disclaimer: This excerpt and corresponding writing sample display some color but the actual book is in black and white.

Ch. 54 (A TURD in THE PICKLE JAR) –  Overcoming my Insecurities^[1]

I guess it would be safe to say that my teenage years were a bit challenging, trying to navigate the pressure of making friends and fitting in socially, all the while dealing with the physical and emotional changes brought on by puberty. As I shared earlier, I had been able to avoid being bullied, unlike some of my classmates, probably because I was a (mostly) respected athlete, but I certainly wasn’t doing well in the romance department. I was unsuccessful in finding a date for any of our formal school functions during my first two years of high school like the Homecoming Dance or the Christmas Ball, and no I did not get asked to the Sadie Hawkins Dance where the girls ask the guys. So, I pretty much resigned myself to hanging out with a couple of my buddies, and we stopped going to most of the high school football and basketball games because they were another reminder of my inability to fit in.

However, it was interesting that when I would play out-of-town tennis tournaments around the Pacific Northwest, I was perceived very differently by others than I was in my hometown. It certainly didn’t hurt that I was one of the top players on the tennis circuit, but more importantly, I had met so many other competitors over the past few summers that we all seemed to appreciate each other’s time together, even beyond the actual competition of who won and lost. I also met a number of girls my age that became friends and, unlike in high school, I didn’t seem to have a difficult time conversing and just hanging out. In fact, there was one particular girl, Julie, from Albany (Oregon) that I had met a few years earlier, when I was 13, who became such a good friend that we decided to be ‘pen-pals’. When the summer ended, our home towns were about 100 miles apart so we would write to each other almost every week, sharing our busy lives with each other. Julie had a great sense of humor so most of our letters were filled with silliness but it really did bolster my spirits knowing that there were girls out there that didn’t consider me ‘invisible’.

As the next few summers rolled by, and the summer before my senior year of high school arrived (1973), I had met many of her other tennis friends and when we played the Albany Tennis Tournament in late-July, she and her two older sisters hosted a pool-party at their home that I was invited to and I got to know many of her local friends who did not compete in tennis. As I had mentioned earlier, it was sort of mind-blowing to me that I could be this confident, interesting, fun and popular guy with lots of friends in the summer and then be a total loser during the school year. 

Finally, when the tennis circuit moved on to my hometown of Roseburg in mid-August, I was ready to host many of my summer tennis friends for a gathering so I approached my neighbor friend, whose family happened to own a ski boat and I convinced him to take a bunch of us water skiing on Cooper Creek Reservoir, only a half hour from our home. I spread the word among our tennis group and, of course, I was thrilled when Julie confirmed that she would be attending. In fact, I told my good friend, Mark, that I was going to get up the nerve to invite her down to Roseburg for our Homecoming Dance scheduled for late-October. When the day arrived, I barely had time to compete in the tennis tournament as we rushed to set up the party and get everyone, as well as the ski boat, transported to the Reservoir. Julie asked me if it would be alright to include a couple of ‘non-tennis’ friends from her home town who were in our town for a baseball tournament and I enthusiastically agreed. I guess what I didn’t realize was that one of those friends was actually her boyfriend, and when this tall, good-looking, athletic and very friendly guy showed up and greeted me with an appreciative high-five before he hugged and kissed Julie. I was devastated.

In reflection, I did my best to pretend that his presence didn’t upset me (JEALOUSY), as we made sure everyone who wanted to waterski had their turn and we barbequed burgers and enjoyed the sunset before heading back to town. Of course, Julie was too smart not to notice that I became much quieter and more ‘measured’ in my demeanor for the rest of the evening and realized that I was disappointed. To her credit, she waited a couple of days until Sunday as the tournament was ending and she approached me to say thank you and asked if we could talk. I tried to downplay my feelings but she started by apologizing to me for not mentioning that she had a boyfriend, but admitted that she and I had been such good friends for the past several years that she didn’t think of me in romantic terms. Again, I tried to remain ‘cool’ because I had never felt the emotions associated with jealousy before that included embarrassment, anger and sadness, among others, and wasn’t sure how to react. At that point, she gave me the biggest hug, slugged me in the arm and said, “Look, you idiot, you are one of my best friends now and will be in fifty years from now and that will never change”. Wow, I was lucky to have a friend like Julie because not only did she know exactly how to sincerely address my feelings but she was right, we were friends for almost forty years until she sadly passed away at 52 years old.

I am proud to have been her friend and I am equally proud to present her with a Cookie for Puppy Girl Award^[2] for her enduring kindness. It is also worth noting that Julie ended up marrying one of my brother’s best friends who was also a friend of mine, making it convenient for all of us to gather many times over the following years, including attending each other’s weddings. In fact, I got the same loving hug from Julie when we shared a dance at (my wife) Ravae’s and my wedding reception almost twenty years later as I did as a naïve seventeen-year-old teenager. I also consider myself fortunate to have learned at an early age just how senseless jealousy can be, especially if it is not acknowledged and addressed immediately.

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^[1]Disclaimer: This excerpt and corresponding writing sample display some color but the actual book is in black and white.

^[2] Inspired by and awarded to those special individuals who show kindness toward others without expecting anything in return. Note that this image uses color whereas the actual memoir is in black and white.