Gerald White: A Guided Walk Through Renal Cell Cancer
Gerald White, Granbury, Texas 1997
Autumn of 1993 came in with just a hint of strangeness around our household. Looking forward as we were to the golden years of retirement, the world in general and we in particular seemed in good and orderly shape. I did not seem to attach any significance to a growing sense of fatigue and the need for daily naps. A couple of embarrassing incidents of bed wetting made me wonder if old age was going to be the green grass that I had presumed it would be. Nevertheless, with our children and grandchildren all healthy and our finances in great shape, and a “complete” physical exam passed with no observed problems, life did, indeed, seem to be golden and our dreams unassailable.
I suppose I could say that it all started with a malingering yard man. This man of dubious distinction had put off cutting our grass for the third straight week with no word of explanation. Unwilling to endure any further delays, I borrowed a neighbor’s riding lawn mower and tore into the job with a fury. I had no way of knowing that I was setting into motion a chain of circumstances that would change our lives forever and bring to an end the orderly lifestyle that we had always thought to be so dependable. Upon completion of the task that hot October day, I headed straightway to the bathroom for a much needed shower. In the act of drying off, I discovered to my shocking surprise that my left testicle was now the size of a grapefruit. Looking back on the experience, I recall that, although knowing well that something was terribly wrong, the first emotion that came to mind was one of embarrassment. Little did I know that in the months to come my modesty would be assaulted from so many directions that it would cease to function.
This was the causative factor for my entering into the medical system. I daresay that every cancer patient can vividly recall that defining moment after which life would never be the same. There are those who go into surgery with a prior knowledge of what they are likely to be dealing with as well as those who go under the anesthetic with one problem only to wake up and find that they are now confronting cancer as well. As one of the former, I have no doubt that it is better to face the monster before your energy is sapped by the trauma of the operation. In my case, it was not necessary for me to hear the urologist’s explanation of the CT films. The gelatinous appearing mass where there should have been a left kidney left no doubt as to its malevolence. I shall be forever grateful to the doctor for letting me have a few moments to get my mind somewhat prepared to receive the crushing news before he delivered it. It was graphically apparent that I stood at one of life great fork’s in the road and I recall my first question being “What if I just ignore it and do nothing?” (I found out later that this response is referred to as denial.) Then came his terse and correct answer “It will kill you!”. It seemed that the high school experience with boxing was being replayed in the form of a certain knowledge that I could stay down from the knockdown punch and it would all be over or I could get up and get back into the fight and be absolutely certain of receiving many punishing blows before a victory could possibly be achieved. I went almost catatonic for several minutes, scarcely aware of the ongoing conversation between doctor and family members. Then, with a strength that I did not know I possessed, I began to mentally face this cancerous monster that had attacked my body, my family and the way of life that we held dear. From that moment on I have been driven by a compulsion to kill it and its cellular offsprings by any means that I could bring to bear. I immediately determined that I would consider all promising avenues and make my own decisions as to how the program would be managed. With my background being in engineering, I chose to look upon it as just another of those seemingly insurmountable problems which, when solved, will seem simple.
Like so many people, when they find out that they are carrying around a murderous monster, I was in a sweat to get it out. This is a typical mistake that stems from an even worse disease than cancer and that is ignorance. I should have realized at the time that all decisions based on ignorance are apt to be flawed. This is particular true in the case of renal cell [kidney] cancer which is a very rare form of cancer, so much so that your average urologist, while good at the surgical removal is woefully lacking in state of the art knowledge of follow up procedures. Thus the ignorance of the patient is compounded by the ignorance of the doctor and two times zero is still zero. Naturally, we wanted to put together the best surgical team available in the area and I believe that we did. We had no way of knowing that over the course of the next four years the consensus would develop among the few leading experts in RCC that a couple of weeks of immune system boosting, perhaps by Interleukin II would have been a good thing prior to surgery. After seeking the advice of many acquaintances, I selected my surgeon with credentials held to be more important than bedside manner. I felt fortunate that I got both. The earliest that we could schedule an OR team was five days hence. I even considered offering him a bribe to do it sooner. I mention this solely for the benefit of others to point out how blinded I was by an unwarranted sense of urgency. I was to find out later how this cost me in terms of options. I had, after all, been carrying the thing around for months or even years and a couple of weeks spent in libraries, where one can receive treatment for the disease of ignorance, or on the internet would have paid big dividends. When cancer enters, reason tends to fly out the window.
The surgery was at Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas. Fortunately, I had spent a few hours reading Dr. Bernie Siegel’s fascinating book, “Love, Medicine and Miracles”. The insights into healing gained from this book and certain others were to become as a second bible to me and an ever present comfort in the long years of struggle that lay ahead. One point he makes in the book is that one should get the best possible room with the prettiest view. I opted for a one bedroom suite that afforded my family the nearest to luxury that I could provide in those circumstances. This proved very beneficial for all concerned as the vigil was long and tiring. The operation lasted over seven hours and produced a tumor that weighed about 20 pounds. I have been told that there have been larger ones but so far I haven’t been able to find this documented. I have always tried to be a high achiever and I suppose that to have grown the largest RCC tumor in the history of American medicine is some sort of an achievement. To have done so and walked away from it alive is an even greater achievement. One of the hopes that I had for the experience is that I would have one of those out of body experiences that one hears so much about. Such was not the case. I have since read that there are mechanisms within the human system that allow visual communication from the subconscious mind. I actually had such an experience although it took me several days to realize it. As I was being wheeled in what most assuredly was an unconscious state from the OR to the recovery room, I had a recollection of seeing my oldest son standing at a turn down another corridor giving me a thumbs up sign to indicate that all had gone well. This sign along with his broad smile was of a great deal of comfort to me and gave me a sense of well being. The only problem with this crystal clear recollection is that the event did not happen. As we subsequently determined, my son was several floors away at the time in another wing of the hospital. This experience, whatever its source, did get my recovery off to a good start and I was discharged in near record time. I have always been good at math and I particularly liked the arithmetic associated with the room charge. By paying twice as much, I got out in half the time and, instead of being miserable and uncomfortable, we managed to have a good time with nothing but pleasant recollections of our hospital stay. That is what I call cost effectiveness.
Without realizing it at the time, I was again at another of those inescapable forks in the road to healing. Like so many RCC patients that I have since visited, I was in a state of euphoria with my surgeon and rightly so since the operation was a thing of beauty. I accepted at face value his belief that he had “got it all”. (I have yet to hear of one who didn’t!) In fact, I simply refused to discuss the subject of cancer with anyone else, preferring instead to think that it was all over and I could go on with my life. Some refer to this as denial and I suppose that is correct. I had by now read that RCC is capricious, totally unpredictable and moves in the blood stream towards another target. Nevertheless I pushed it to the back of my mind. I was to later learn that this amounts to leaving the field to the enemy to do as he pleases with no opposition.
Fall turned to winter and the recovery progressed. From an initial success of barely managing to get aboard my exercise bike, I gradually increased the distance to several miles. I soon discovered that recovery is more a mind game than a physical achievement. With each cold morning came the inevitable aches and pains that tried to suggest to me that the cancer had returned. I recalled that the cancer never actually hurt. I had to mentally tell each of these pains “No, you are not cancer, you are just a residual ache resulting from the cutting and you will eventually go away”. With the coming of warm spring days the pains did subside and life started to be good again. When it came time for the March CT scan I was feeling pretty good and when my friend the urology surgeon told me that I was free of cancer, the world did seem a friendly place once again.
Over the next year I found myself reading more and more on the subject of nutrition, in particular as related to cancer. I became mindful of how little my surgeon seemed to know about this subject and how little it had been discussed on follow up visits. In the meantime, at the urging of my RN daughter who worked at a local hospital, my wife (who never did buy into the euphoria scenario) met and discussed RCC with a very understanding oncologist. On one occasion, and against my expressed wishes, she even took my CT films and pathology reports to him for an office visit. Cancer is a family affair and I shall never forget how bravely my devoted wife put herself in the unenviable position of trying to force help on one too headstrong to appreciate it. This kind and understanding doctor assured her that he was there for us if I ever wanted him. I had already been told that kidney cancer was considered a rare form of cancer. Even though over 24,000 Americans a year are told they have RCC this is still only one half of one percent of the appalling number of all types of cancer reported yearly. If this does not constitute an epidemic, then it will do until an epidemic comes along. I recall being impressed by the oncologist’s statement to my wife, and later to me, that he didn’t really know a damn thing about RCC but he did have access to all the conventional tools and he thought we might work together in whipping it. This was the first and only time that I have ever heard a doctor admit that he was not an authority on the problem he was attempting to treat. I had the good sense to realize that here was a man with whom I might successfully work should the need arise. I was then on the verge of a great discovery. I was near to finding out about a problem that kills over 10,000 Americans a year.
Recall that I was earlier at a fork in the road to healing. Problems began to loom just after I took the wrong path, a mistake that I almost paid for with my life. Realization began to slowly dawn that effective treatment for my disease was twofold in nature and required two distinctly different types of physicians. Initially was the requirement for a fine urology surgeon. An operation of this nature is quite complex and requires a state of the art surgical team. The follow on treatment for RCC is no less complex, made even moreso by the capricious and little understood nature of the disease. The basic problem previously referred to is that even a very fine urologist is not likely to have more than a passing knowledge of the treatment and management of metastatic RCC. It is therefore no more logical to bet your life on the surgeon to manage the ongoing treatment than it would have been to expect the oncologist to perform the initial surgery. There are not many exceptions to this in the ranks of urologists. By simply not advising their patients of possible problems with limited expertise, they allow the aforementioned 10,000 Americans to die annually. This is about twice the death rate of the Viet Nam war. I do not recall ever having seen demonstrators in the streets burning urologists in effigy. These were commonplace during the Viet Nam war and even chased a president out of office. Give the urologists five years and they will kill as many Americans as the Viet Nam war. Have I put the matter too strongly? Let us take a look at what subsequently evolved.
As the year progressed, I developed an increasing awareness, albeit rather casual, in such subjects as guided imagery, meditation and nutrition. For the average individual these subjects are not readily accessible without a determined effort. Casual just won’t get it done. I was not able to find an active guided imagery support group within the DFW metroplex and the same was true for nutrition. I suppose there must be a master mailing list somewhere that enables every quack medicine promoter in the world to assault the mailboxes of cancer patients. We were automatically enrolled in the “Quack of the Month” club as I am sure others have been. The story is always the same, a miracle cure for all cancers, suppressed by the government and only available from the advertiser at a phenomenal price. Now I do not believe that the federal government suppresses cancer cures. I do believe that if it came down to it they probably would out of loyalty to the various political hacks that support the various agencies. It’s just that it seems more likely that such bureaucracies as the NIH would be so lacking in both the necessary intelligence and operational efficiency that they would be unable to do so even if they wanted to.
The Chinese say that confusion is the beginning of knowledge. Knowledge began for me in the spring of 1995 at the Cancer Treatment Center of America in Tulsa. We (the continual use of the plural pronoun indicates that cancer involves both partners) went there primarily to inquire into their nutritional program. This was done and proved to be very informative. While we were there it was suggested that, since it was time, I have the follow up CT scan done. On this occasion I had a rather unusual experience in that I met a real live radiologist. This was the first time I had been able to put a face on one of these secretive creatures. Heretofore I had know them as unseen entities lurking somewhere in the hospital labyrinth whose existence was made known by the bills that seemed to appear from nowhere. This particular radiologist pointed to a small mass on the CT film where my left kidney had previously resided. He was of the opinion that it was malignant. Talk about ruining an otherwise fine day! Having been assured by the doctor at Baylor that “they never come back in the renal bed”, I now faced my first major disconfirmation. The realization that my friend/surgeon could possibly be flawed in his assertions was most disconcerting.
There seemed little else to do but go back to Baylor for what I suppose we should refer to as a tertiary opinion of a secondary opinion. My doctor was patronizingly tolerant of me for having gone elsewhere. He gently laughed at my idea of the importance of vitamins and nutrition for cancer therapy and sternly cautioned me against ever letting one of those “for profit” hospitals get any more of my money. He assured me that the mass in question was definitely not malignant but to be absolutely sure he wanted to consult with the head of the Baylor radiology department. This local deity also felt that there was no malignancy. By that time I had read enough on the subject of cancer to realize that the patient must take charge of and be responsible for his or her own treatment program. Failure to do so will result in someone else taking charge and the patient will probably not like the outcome. At this point I had the good sense to ask a life saving question, “Why don’t we do a punch biopsy and there will be one less liar in the house”. I decided to have this done at Baylor. I reasoned that Baylor personnel would be particularly attentive to my case since they would be the ones to lose big time with a misdiagnosis. My doctor must have drawn the short straw as it was he who had to call me and tell me that it was, indeed, recurrent RCC. I then arranged for him to re-operate knowing that I would get the best effort that Baylor could muster, out of fear if nothing else. The operation went well and we parted friends.
By the time of the second surgery I had finally “engaged” in the fight with the cancer. No longer content with the false sense of comfort that comes from letting others do all the thinking, I found myself becoming downright proactive. My son had recently read some interesting internet articles on Interleukin II that presented it as an effective tool against RCC. When we first mentioned this at Baylor, one of the doctors literally jumped from his chair, pounded on his desk and said “Tell your son to quit reading those damn books. Interleukin kills people”. We did keep reading, however, and discovered the technique of tumor harvesting. I had originally heard of this at Tulsa. Genetic engineers are presently working in this exciting field. The theory is that the original tumor can be harvested for the cancer fighting T-cells that were in it at the time of the surgical removal. These can be extracted, grown in a bio-reactor and stored in cryo-freeze for possible reinjection into the patient at a later date as tumor specific killer cells. Another possibility is to use the harvested tumor for the development of GM-CSF (Granulocyte-Macrophage Colony Stimulating Factor). This may be thought of as functioning somewhat along the lines of a vaccine. I came to realize that, in my rush to the initial surgery, twenty pounds of perfectly good cancerous tumor were thrown into the incinerator. I did require that my surgeon cooperate in the harvesting on the second time around. My son literally stood at the OR door to receive the packaged tumor and then raced to Federal Express for transport to a facility that we had identified in Franklin, Tennessee.
Once one enters into the brave new world of immuno-therapy the excitement never ends. Surgery is still the weapon of choice for RCC but beyond that the conventional tools of chemotherapy and radiation are not very effective. The use of naturally occurring messenger proteins such as the interleukins and interferons offers broad based hope to many cancer sufferers who prefer to boost the body’s immune system rather than having it suffer collateral damage from the use of chemotherapy agents. Our table-pounding friend at Baylor was only a few years behind the times. Not only is the killer phase of Interleukin II testing well behind us, it was actually approved by the FDA for use against RCC in 1992. Thousands of people have had their treatment programs greatly enhanced as well as their lives saved by Interleukin II. The second tumor was small and the supply for harvest was limited. The efforts to grow the TDAC cells were successful. It is of no small consolation to me that there is, in indefinite cryofreeze, roughly a pint of these Tumor Derived Activated Killer Cells available for use should the need arise. The efforts to grow the GM-CSF, unfortunately were not successful.
The period following my second surgery might be described as one of “guarded euphoria”. My surgeon had now “got it all” not once but twice. I hope that a lifesaving lesson in “ego management” was learned by all concerned. Again I should like to point out the inherently dangerous nature of ignorance, especially when it occurs in high places. As I hear a similar story told over and over by others with whom I have come in contact I have come to the view that the five most dangerous words a cancer patient can say are “I just love my doctor”. In fairness to the doctors, I do not believe that they necessarily encourage or even desire this adulation. I believe that it is born of a basic human weakness being that of turning a problem over to someone else rather than choosing a tougher and perhaps even dangerous path where the patient takes charge. This amounts to management of a deadly problem and requires all the resources that the patient can muster. In so doing the patient also assumes the responsibility for the outcome. A deadly game to be sure but who better to play it than the one with total commitment to a favorable outcome. To be sure it feels very awkward at first, even frightening as does driving on the left side in many foreign countries. With the passage of time the going gets better and with this comes a certain degree of self-assurance that sustains the effort. In a further effort to show fairness to the urologists I should also point out that the risk associated with developing a specialty in a rare field might well be starvation. There appears to be a visible tendency in the war on cancer for fighters at all levels and callings to “follow the money” and there is certainly plenty of it to follow.
Immediately after the second surgery, I did what I should have done prior to the first and that was to involve an oncologist independent of the surgical facility. The experience at Baylor certainly gave the perception of one department convincingly covering up for a colleague’s bad judgment. Again in the interest of fairness it should be acknowledged that so much of cancer treatment involves judgement calls by the doctor. We have no right to demand perfection on the part of others, just their very best. I meant it when I said we parted friends.
Things rocked along very well for a few months until some very worrisome little “ditsels” began to appear in both lungs on the CT films. It was becoming apparent that the nightmare would never end. We decided to wait three months and check again before rushing to judgment. The subsequent check revealed growth. Now we are at another of those forks in the road. Surgery loomed as an option but, after listening to my doctor’s counsel, I decided against it. The TDAC was now ready in Tennessee but proof of its efficacy was still not forthcoming. After consultations with the doctor in Tennessee as well as my own oncologist, I decided to embark on a program of Interleukin-II therapy. Several weeks into this program I managed to locate the wonderful folks at the National Kidney Cancer Association in Chicago. This is probably the most patient friendly of all the associations dealing with any form of cancer. Among other benefits, I was given the names of several doctors prominent in the field of RCC. The specialist I chose was at Northwestern University in Chicago, a decision that I regard as lifesaving to this very day. He was very supportive of my choice of treatment.
If this had been my only form of treatment, I well might not have made it. Contemporaneous with the Il-2, I was now wholeheartedly into an organized program of guided imagery, prayer and meditation. I developed the program along lines that were convenient to me, not necessarily to the system. I arranged to have my injections given by my RN daughter. In the early evening of “shot day” I would get a soothing bath, prepare for bed and then devote a lengthy time to meditation and guided imagery. At a time of my choosing, participants from both family and close friends would come to my bedside and we would have a prayer for healing (a beautiful word healing, what a pity one never hears it spoken at a cancer center). This was always done with laying on of hands. My little four and five year old grandsons vied for the saying of the prayer. I was awestruck on one occasion when one of the little fellows prayed that the shot would be like a sword to kill that cancer. It seems that that had been the very image that I had been using in private guided imagery sessions and one that he could not possibly have known about. Those interested in pursuing the subject of spiritual healing are referred to the section on the subject appended herewith. At the very least we managed to take a cold and impersonal experience with all its associated discomfort and turn it into a thing of beauty to be fondly remembered by all those who participated.
The treatment program continued for eight long months. The side effects made it seem like the worst case of flu imaginable. At the end of this time I was just about completely worn out. I had found my hopes and expectations shifting from the Il-2 to the guided imagery and prayer. When the CT films of early July showed that we were, if anything, losing the battle, I made the radical decision to go off the Il-2 treatment and continue to develop the guided imagery. This had the effect of elevating the mind-body work to a life or death situation. I think it took this to get me to give it my full focus and attention. Just at that time we found out that a little Episcopalian chapel in our neighborhood was offering a biblical healing service that was open to any and all. This was ideally in line both time and place with the program that I had already declared for. This beautiful and simple service, patterned after that described in the New Testament in the fifth chapter of the book of James was exactly what the patient ordered. No doctor would dare prescribe such a treatment for fear of losing his license or being burned at the stake.
One hears the term “Guided Imagery” used quite frequently these days. Much has been written about it but getting at the “how” of it is not so easy. In this mind-body connecting technique, the user attempts to communicate from the conscious left brain hemisphere to the subconscious right brain by the use of imagery. More importantly, the desired result is for a particular mechanism within the human body to be activated to accomplish a specific purpose. The intended purpose of this particular effort is to locate and kill cancer cells. It seems that the human body was endowed at birth with a marvelous and efficient immune system that can kill any cancer cell that imposes itself unwelcome into the warm hospitality of the host. There are many types of these protector cells such as neutrophils, macrophages, T-cells and Natural Killer Cells. There are even suppressor cells to signal that the battle is over and the body has won. In those cases where the immune system fails to trigger and the cancer grows unmolested, the visualizations of guided imagery seek to sound the alarm and send these friendly warriors into the battle. The technique begins in relaxation and peace of mind and there are specific exercises by which the user can bring this about. Beyond relaxation are the visualization techniques that are personalized to the individual and require intense mental focus, discipline and time to perform effectively. These usually involve animation of some sort as well as the use of colors. It should be emphasized that this is not a quick fix for something as voracious as cancer. Many people are eager to get started until they find out the amount of dedication and discipline required for success. Most that I have discussed this with seem to just leave it to the doctor and hope for the best.
It should be understood that this is not “alternative medicine”. Far from it, this technique can be a powerful compliment to modern medicine and it is in this light that it should be viewed. Many doctors due to unfamiliarity or merely disbelief chose to dispose of the topic by referring to it as alternative medicine thereby casting it in the same light as “quack” remedies. There is absolutely no excuse for any oncologist to be unfamiliar with the good results that this useful modality has experienced, usually with the “terminally” ill. To deny this technique to a patient by not even bringing it to the patients attention is the deadliest form of paternalism and is inexcusable.
In my lifelong career as an engineer, I learned to live by a pragmatic approach in which I learned to believe what I see. Engineers are not afforded the luxury of living by bedside manner, popular opinions or even good intentions. If the calculations are not precisely correct then the machine will explode or the bridge will collapse when traffic crosses. We continually seek to observe cause/effect relationships from which to draw empirical conclusions. This all came to a head when the CT films for October, after three months off medical treatment, were put up on the viewscreen. When the oncologist exclaimed, “Well I’ll be a son of a bitch”, I knew that something had changed. The “problem” was that three of the ditsels had disappeared completely and the two largest had shrunk down to nubbins. This was confirmed by the doctor at Northwestern whose kind and gentle manner I shall always treasure and never forget.
Quite a bit of time has gone by since those terrible days of 1996. Much of the anguish and anxiety has receded into a dim memory. The tests keep coming back the same. The most recent was a PET (Positron Emission Tomography) done at Rush Presbyterian in Chicago. This machine, almost identical in appearance to a CT machine, uses injections of mildly radioactive fluorodioxyglucose to light up active cancer. All cancer patients should be aware of this diagnostic modality. I suppose there are those who will ask, “Where does this leave the rest of us?” There are those who willingly accept this as a case of patient directed self-healing. Most tend to be skeptical contending that the Il-2 has finally “kicked in”. I always make it a point to ask these skeptics why it didn’t kick in during those eight long months of continuing injections. Many will simply say that I experienced a remission. To this I ask, “How does one describe the mechanics of remission?”, because to speak of a phenomena without understanding its elements is not even the beginning of knowledge. I do not mean to give the impression that I am against the use of drugs such as Il-2. It is my personal belief that God, working through gifted and dedicated people, gives us these gifts of healing.
The purpose of this narrative is to acquaint my fellow patients with the enormous wealth of resources available to us to compliment the miracles already available to us from modern medicine. This should be viewed in addition to, not instead of! I would particularly recommend that a patient become well versed in the works of some of the better credentialled workers in the field. My first brush was with the Jose Silva method. When I was too sick from the Il-2 to attend, I paid my daughters tuition to an AMA sponsored seminar in our area. For guided imagery I would recommend going to the source, Dr. Carl Simonton. Dr. Bernie Siegel of Yale University has done a marvelous job of popularizing these concepts.
As for me, I am closely following the efforts of the Complimentary Care Center at Columbia University in New York. My wife and I recently took their program and found it of immense value. Knowing what I now know I would approach the first surgery a bit differently. First I would spend three or four days at Columbia, then arrange for two weeks of Il-2 for immune boosting and then and only then would I go to surgery. If the anesthesiologist would not play meditation tapes through a headset to me during the operation then I would find one that would.
It is only necessary to look around us to see the growth of academic interest in mind-body medicine. I have recently attended a three day seminar on “Spirituality in Medicine” directed by Dr. Herbert Benson of the Harvard University Medical School. The course was presented in nearby Houston and I was surprised to find over 700 people from all over the world in attendance. The presentations there were awe inspiring as to results from seemingly hopeless cases. With the full weight of the scientific method now being applied to ongoing studies, it seems reasonable to project that the contemporary medical scene, especially that associated with the treatment of cancer, is in for some astonishing and wonderful changes.
Dear reader, I know that you would not be reading this unless you or a loved one is currently suffering from some form of cancer. There is a growing belief even within the medical community that you have the cure within your own body if you can just activate it. Many researchers are starting to seek ways to activate the mechanism of spontaneous remission. Many of us believe that we have been afforded a dim glimpse of how this can be accomplished and are striving to know more. Whatever you do, I urge you to take personal charge of your healing program. It will seem awkward at first, like driving in England, but as time passes you will come to know that you are correct. Always remember that if you don’t take charge of your healing somebody else will and you probably won’t like the outcome.
We participants in the front lines of the cancer war are just ordinary men and women drafted without our consent into this service. We need not be victims. We can turn this experience to ultimate good in service to others. The choice is ours.
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Gerald W. White, P.E.
3700 Mariscal Ct.
Granbury, Texas 76049
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Page Created: 1997, Last Updated: June 2008