Before Random House, the original publisher accepted Intensive Care, five other well-known publishers turned it down They found the mother –me – unsympathetic. By that, they meant they wanted me to accept the burden of a dying child with grace. They wanted me to be a heroine who would sacrifice whatever hopes I might have had for my own life and happiness and devote myself utterly to the wellbeing of my doomed child. They didn’t want me to be angry and sarcastic. They certainly didn’t want me to say the f-word. They wanted a saint.

And they weren’t happy about my relationship with my husband either. When a young couple learns that their child has a fatal disease, they wished for a fairy tale husband and wife to run into one another’s arms. They wanted them to gaze into one another’s eyes and there find love, comfort and support. Instead, too often when the real Larry and the real Mary-Lou looked into one another’s eyes, we found only our own grief and anger reflected there.
Today Larry and I are in our late 70’s. Amazingly, our marriage survived, but not without seismic love-hate print outs on our martial EKGs. Pete’s brother Adam is in his mid-50s. He and his wife Rebecca, a nationally ranked runner and expert web-designer, live in Tucson, Arizona. Adam is a lawyer, like his father. He dotes upon his three healthy, happy, athletic children: a girl, who is a cross country runner, and two boys: The older brother is a grade school champion goalie and indoor wall climber. His younger brother literally follows in his brother’s sporty footsteps. The whole family hikes, swims and skis.