But I will. Ludicrous and, frankly, almost criminal. First of all, no one needs an annual salary of $27.9 million. What on earth would you even spend that much money on? Purchase your own country?
Secondly, I take this over the top salary personally. I can’t help but feel that my individual contribution (over seven years of my life spent as an early participant in two phase one clinical trials for Pfizer) helped feather this fellow’s fine nest.
It is as if I am the serf and this is my lord. Clinical trials as a feudal system? Not so far off the mark, yet oddly out of place and time in this modern day democracy in which we now (co)exist.
However, I have an idea. Ian C. Read could decide to share some of that massive salary, just as I have so generously shared the fruits of my labor (not to mention a whole lot of plasma).
And he could start by taking care of my parking fees.
I have health insurance again, as of five days ago. Trial back on track with scans last week and labs and a review tomorrow.
However, my relief at regaining coverage is tempered by some unaccustomed anxiety.
For more than a month now my upper lobe—all that remains on the left side—has been making a crackling noise when I exhale. I know this noise and there’s nothing good about it. In addition, I have experienced an occasional cough and some shortness of breath as well as some streaking of blood in my sputum.
Best case scenario, this is an infection. But the fact that two rounds of antibiotics have not knocked it down is not encouraging.
This wouldn’t be my first time at the rodeo but damn, I’ve gotten nicely accustomed to an easier ride. Of note, lorlatinib was just granted FDA approval. This is the third time I’ve been in a first in human trial where the experimental therapeutic has gotten approved for prescribed use. A good feeling, that.