The Miracle of You

Camille felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes.

“What… What can we do, then?” she asked distressedly. “We can’t just give up now! There has to be another way. Isn’t there another doctor who can help? One with a higher success rate than normal except for Colmen?”

“I’m afraid not, meine Schwester. Dr. Colmen is the best there is. If we use other doctors, Papa… he might not last long. Other doctors haven’t reached the level of breakthrough that Dr. Colmen has.” Paul let out another sigh. “As much as I hate to admit it, a lot of patients have recovered fully under Dr. Colmen’s treatment. He’s the best we’ve got. But we’ll keep trying other solutions, I can promise you that.”

Camille silently wiped away a stray tear that fell down her cheek.

The news was shocking, but it made her feel a little better to know that her brothers were there for her father.

Well… her adoptive father, to be exact. Though she still didn’t know if she deserved to call him that anymore.

“Don’t say that,” Ben had scolded her once during their occasional phone calls. “Papi loves you. Mutti, too. They both miss you very much.”

Camille didn’t really believe that. After all, they didn’t even make an effort to reach out to her or find out where she was to make sure she was okay.

It was as if, after the day she left the family, she was no longer welcome back.

Which was exactly what she deserved, she thought.

“I’ll find a way to arrange an urgent appointment with this doctor,” she said to Paul on the phone. Her first priority was Luther right now. There was no time for sentimental thoughts. “Give me his contact information.”Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“Of course,” Paul said solemnly. “I’ll text them to you.”

***

Later, Camille realized in despair that Paul was right.

She called Dr. Colmen, but it took several days to get through. The line was often busy, and when his secretary finally answered, she was told to come in person to make an appointment.

And even if she did, she would be put on the normal priority list, with a few patients at the top taking up the urgent priority.

Despite Camille’s offers of more money and pleas, the secretary would not budge. It seemed that getting to the top of the priority list had some specific requirements.

So, out of desperation, Camille began researching the disease to see if there was anything she could glean from the information.

Luther van Gowen’s condition was called ‘Orion’s Disease’. It was caused by a genetic deficiency of a crucial enzyme, leading to a toxic buildup of complex molecules that progressively damaged cells and organs.

Luther’s symptoms fit the bill. Initially, there would be fever, fatigue, loss of appetite, and abdominal pain, and as the disease progressed, there would be kidney and liver dysfunction and neurological problems such as seizures, along with metabolic acidosis and organ failure.

If not treated promptly, the disease would prove fatal within months to a year.

The standard treatment involved frequent dialysis and chelation therapy at a cost of more than $500, 000 per year. This regimen was grueling and only slowed the progression of the disease.

Not only that, but the procedures were exhausting for the patient. In addition, continuous dialysis could lead to dangerously low levels of nutrients and electrolytes. There was also the risk of life-threatening infections.

Camille stiffened as she reached the final section of the research article.

With standard treatment alone, approximately 60% of OD patients survive beyond 5 years, but with a gradually declining quality of life due to organ damage.

Five years.

If they relied on the doctors in this city, her father would live a maximum of five years, and only a little beyond that if he was lucky.

As Camille pored over more medical journals, she was struck by the cruelty of the disease.

Patients experienced progressive physical and cognitive deterioration as the disease progressed. Basically, a patient’s body would slowly rot along with his mind.

The thought of Luther going through such an experience was almost too much to bear.

Her desperation grew with each article and case study. Conventional treatments were like punishment, offering years of punishment at best. Luther did not deserve such a fate after all he had sacrificed for their family.

Camille hastily researched Dr. Colmen and his experimental treatment. He seemed to have developed a revolutionary enzyme replacement therapy combined with targeted gene therapy.

The initial results were promising, potentially halting or even reversing the progression of the disease.

However, the complexity of the treatment and the extensive research investment made it very expensive. A full course was estimated to cost $15-20 million, with the potential need for follow-up treatments.

Moreover, Dr. Colmen’s therapy was still experimental. It was available to a small number of patients through his private facility. His waiting list was selective and involved considerations of one’s ability to pay, the success of the treatment, and the potential for advancing research.

Camille felt her throat tighten, and she slumped back in her seat, feeling suddenly drained. Her heart was flooded with all kinds of conflicting emotions.

It had been fourteen years. The resentment and sense of betrayal had already faded into the background, and she was too tired to feel those exhausting emotions anymore.

Although she had left the family all those years ago, she could still remember Luther’s kindness to her and the bond they once shared as father and daughter.

No matter what happened, the fact remained that he was the man who had given her a home, encouraged her dreams, and showered her with unconditional love as she grew up.

The thought of him suffering like this from the disease weighed heavily on her. Her eyes burned, but the tears did not come. She was too exhausted to cry. There was too much going on for her to know what to feel and when or how to let go of the emotions swirling inside her.

She didn’t know how long she sat there lifelessly, staring at her computer screen, until someone’s voice snapped her out of her trance.

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you working?”