Spending so much time in Baltimore, Siple wasn't content to just go from appointment to appointment. In her downtime, she would hop on the subway or the light rail, against the advice of the friends of friends she was staying with who warned her it might not be safe.
Right away, the other passengers could tell she wasn't from around here. And they were happy to chat with this outgoing woman they encountered. She would mention why she was in town, cancer and all. They would ask how she stayed so positive. She loved when they asked her that. It gave her an opening to preach about God and her "awesome hope" and how when she dies she will wake up in Paradise. It allowed her the face time with strangers that she relishes as a Jehovah's Witness, the faith that keeps her so up even when circumstances don't call for it.
Three months of waiting
For three months, Siple has been waiting to find out whether the vaccine is working. Now she waits some more, as Emens answers a page about another patient. She talks to her husband, Cory, by cell phone, setting up its speaker so he can listen in to whatever the doctor has to say. After what seems like an eternity, Emens is ready to let her patient know the score.
"The news isn't perfect," Emens begins, "but it's not terrible."
The tumors in her liver - there are four of them, two the size of walnuts, two the size of limes - have grown a bit. But there are no new ones.
Had there been more growth, Siple would be kicked off the trial, sent off to find another treatment. Instead, Emens schedules Siple to return in August, three months from now. Then they will take a new set of pictures and, if the cancer hasn't spread, she can get her fourth and final round of vaccines.
Siple is sure the last doses will kick-start her recovery. "It just seemed like I reacted really quickly to the last vaccine," she tells Emens. "I felt like something had changed in my body."
Looking for something positive to hold on to, Siple asks Emens how the others have fared: Have they seen their tumors grow only to shrink later on? Emens doesn't have an answer. So few women have gotten the vaccine. She doesn't have enough experience to draw on.
"Sometimes with immune therapy," Emens offers, "you can have a kind of delayed response." The limited literature suggests it is possible.
That is exactly what Siple wants to hear.
