Gene P21

My father was an awful person. It was not entirely his fault. His father was a horrible person, an incorrigible drunk. The horde of siblings he had helped to raise were also horrible people. The resulting situation had created a man who felt no responsibility for any wrong no matter how blatantly his fault. Any shortcoming he had he projected onto those closest to him whenever he was challenged. If a point was argued in a way he could not defend he just ceased participating in reality. This was a tactic that was usually used in conjunction with over the top anger. He was impossible to be around for any extended length of time. He was horrible. He was damaged. He was dying. They said cancer and it wouldn't be long.

"Hey, Dad. How are you?"

"Well, I am in a bed in a hospital dying. How should I be?"

"I wanted to see you. I want us to be ok. I don't want either of us to have regrets."

"You just don't want to feel guilty! You never respected me! I did so much for you. I think of the horseback riding lessons and the surfing equipment I bought you. All the money I spent on you and you never treated me right. No one actually cares if I die here. I should have left you all and moved out west when I had the chance. You and your brother poisoned my grandkids against me anyway."

"Dad, you know that isn't true. We love you. We just could not always be around. We also could not justify having the kids be around if you insisted on being so negative all the time. I also wish, that now especially, you would stop equating love with the money you spent. Love is not money. I wish you could accept that before things get worse."

"You never gave me enough credit for all I did. You just always thought I was a bad father. I had a hard life. I made it so you and your brother didn't have to go through what I did. I gave you everything! My father drank and I had to take care of my brothers and sisters. You had it easy."

"I love you, Dad. I am sorry for your pain. I wish it was different."

"You just wish I was going to be around to take care of you longer. You won't know what to do without me."

I turned to leave. It wasn't how I wanted it to end. My expectations weren't realistic though. I was hoping for a miracle. I hoped that he would realize at the end it wasn't about right or wrong, it was about leaving things in the right state. I didn't even want to be right. I just want to be content and for him to feel at peace at the end.

A doctor I did not know approached me in the hall. He was young but looked tired and troubled. He walked with purpose right down the hall, straight at me. He looked intense. It was a little startling.

"Excuse me. Are you Mr. Murphy's daughter?"

"I am. My name is Michelle Simpson. Who are you?"

"Oh, I am so sorry. Dr. Peter Reilly, I am a genetic surgeon. I am the head of the gene therapy research and development team here. We are the premier team in the nation. I need to speak to you about your father."

"I am not interested in painful treatments which may or may not extend his life. He has had a long road and doesn't need to labor through needless suffering."

"I think you misunderstand. Your father is at the right place at the right time. We have just gotten clearance from the last officiating agency. We want to do genetic surgery on him. If we shut off his P21 gene his body will regrow cells in a positive way. It is kind of like anti-cancer. The gene normally inhibits rapid cell growth. It regrows cells in a non-cancerous way. If we shut it off it is likely to grow good cells as quick as or quicker than the disease. We have been given permission to do a human trial. We have to start with a terminal cancer patient though. If this works we will be able to regrow limbs. Disease will be a thing of the past."

"You mean no more sickness? People would live forever?"

"Well, not forever, but definitely much longer. The average lifespan would at least double."

"What about mental troubles? He has thought he was dying for a year now. How is he supposed to deal with that? I mean that is a lot to swallow."

"Well . . . I assume there is counseling for such things. He could be a new man and live another sixty or seventy years. He would go down in history as the first person to have the treatment. I am offering you a miracle. You are listed as his healthcare proxy. Legally I can't even approach him with this offer. You have to accept."

"I don't have to do anything. My father is a sick man. Unfortunately for you and your program, doctor, you are offering the wrong miracle. The cancer in his soul took his life long before the cancer on his lungs did."

THE END

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