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The Palermos Promise
WRITTEN BY KAREN GARLOCH
Jim Palermo was only 18, a college freshman, when he began having headaches that led to the diagnosis of a brain tumor. When he needed words of encouragement, the Charlotte teenager felt his doctors were downright pessimistic.
Palermo's parents, Sharron and Jim, remember the day their son's neurologist told them he had "an inoperable mass in the center of the brain." They were devastated. Fortunately, the Palermos found another specialist who was confident and reassuring. He recommended radiation treatments that eliminated the cancerous tumor. The experience changed their lives.
Fourteen years later, Jim Palermo, the patient, is a radiation oncologist, treating other cancer patients at Hugh Chatham Memorial Hospital in Elkin, about 80 miles north of Charlotte. His illness led him to change plans to major in international business and go to medical school instead. He vowed to never be as negative as that first doctor, no matter what a patient's diagnosis.
Even before his son got well, Jim Palermo, the father, a former Bank of America executive, promised he would do something to help others with cancer. He didn't know what or when, but he knew he would. Today, the elder Palermo has set a goal to help raise $5 million in three years for the Brain Tumor Fund of the Carolinas. The major fund-raiser will be Aug. 7, the first Bank of America Invitational Criterium, a 60-mile bike race on an uptown Charlotte course.
`Boom. There it was'
It all started in the spring of 1990 with the younger Palermo's headaches. At the Georgetown University student health center in Washington, a doctor referred him to the neurologist, who didn't suspect anything serious but ordered a CT scan "to be on the safe side," Palermo recalled. "Boom. There it was." A tumor the size of a walnut in the center of his brain. Because of its location, a biopsy was out of the question. So was surgery. The neurologist didn't offer many answers or options.
"Nobody could tell me exactly what this was. Whether it was benign? Whether it was malignant? Was I gonna die? Was I gonna live?" Palermo said. The family found another doctor, a neurosurgeon named Dr. Edward Laws, at nearby George Washington University. "He was just very matter-of-fact. Very positive," said the younger Palermo. "I walked out of that appointment feeling like a million bucks."
Laws suggested a test dose of radiation. If it worked, it would mean the tumor was of a certain type, a germinoma, that would shrink. If the tumor didn't respond, it would mean another, more resistant type. At least they would know what they were dealing with. They tried it, and on Mother's Day 1990, Palermo got the news that his tumor was gone. "It was a very nice Mother's Day gift," he said. To make sure all the tumor cells were killed, he had three more weeks of radiation treatment. He lost his dark blond hair and his appetite. Normally 142 pounds, he shed 10 pounds and looked gaunt at 5 feet 10 inches tall.
During the treatment, he lived with his mother in a convent near the campus, where he could take naps and she could help him with studies, meals and emotional support. That summer, he finished the radiation treatment at home in Charlotte under the care of Dr. Robert Fraser, a radiation oncologist at Carolinas Medical Center. The younger Palermo became fascinated by the MRI scans and the technology available to today's doctors. "I thought, `Wow, maybe this is something I need to know more about,' " he said. In his sophomore year, he switched to pre-med, and when he graduated from Georgetown, he entered medical school at UNC Chapel Hill.
`A very intense relationship'
Palermo planned to be an internist, but near the end of his third year of medical school, he spent a few weeks' rotation at Carolinas Medical in radiation oncology, the treatment of cancer with radiation. He thought it was a nice mix of science, technology and direct patient care. He could get to know patients for six or seven weeks at a time, while they were getting daily treatments.
"I treasure that ability to be with these people and form that bond," he said recently. "It's a very intense relationship. Much more my style than, `OK, Miss Jones, I'll see you again next year.' " During his residency at Wake Forest University Baptist Medical Center in Winston-Salem, he worked with three teenage boys who had tumors just like his. Now that he's in private practice at the Elkin hospital, he often sees older patients with breast, lung or prostate cancer, but he continues to find that his experience as a patient comes in handy.
"Too many people have been told that they might not be alive in two months or six months or a year. I felt that and had to deal with that. These people can all identify with that and that helps me identify with them." Last year, he formed a special bond with 18-year-old Jonathan Royal, of North Wilkesboro, who came for treatment of Hodgkin's lymphoma, a cancer of the lymph system. Royal, who recently finished his freshman year at N.C. State University, said it was encouraging to have such a friendly, upbeat doctor who also had been through cancer at 18 and "got through it fine." Kathleen Royal said her son and Palermo became friends. "He was outstanding the minute we met him," she said. "He spent at least an hour, maybe more, in that first session. You barely had to ask a question, he explained everything so well. "He hit it off with Jonathan immediately. They're both into computers. He would call the house. He would talk to Jonathan, and they played video games (online). We've never lost touch with him, and I don't think we ever will."
She said she first became aware of Palermo's cancer when she noticed the three tiny tattoos on his shaved head. The dark blue dots - one in the center of his forehead, one over each ear - were placed there to show where to give the radiation. Palermo decided to keep his head shaved - he calls it his Andre Agassi look - and to keep the tattoos. "They are a nice reminder to me. It's easy to get caught up in the insignificant details of life. "Cancer diagnosis is very traumatic," he added. "I was going through a very difficult time and Dr. Laws helped to make that a little easier. "There are plenty of good radiation oncologists who can effectively treat most cancers, but I'd like to stand out in people's minds as one of the doctors that really made things go a little easier."
`Desperately searching'
For years, Jim Palermo, the father, just thanked God that his son was alive and well and that he'd found satisfying work as a doctor. Then, six years ago, he found a way to give back. A friend who had survived brain cancer introduced the elder Palermo to Dr. Tony Asher, a Charlotte neurosurgeon who wants to build a major brain tumor program. In December 2002, they organized a fund-raiser featuring Lance Armstrong, a five-time Tour de France champion and cancer survivor. And this year, they're launching the Bank of America Invitational Criterium, an uptown bike race, part of the USA Cycling Federation's national racing calendar. They hope to raise money for brain tumor research and for patient and family support services, such as those provided by Charlotte's Buddy Kemp Caring House.
Palermo, now with Johnson & Wales University, remembers how much he could have used more support during his son's illness. "I can't tell you the empty feeling that gives you, and the panic," he said. "You are desperately searching for something. You shouldn't have to reach around the world to find it. You want it to be close." With money raised from the bike race, he hopes, it will be.
