When your brother has been diagnosed with ALS, it makes you reflect on his lively, energetic, engaged life. It puts you in mind of his being bucked off a horse on his first visit to the West; his cycling and biking thru the Rockies and the West; his ranch, and his horses that accompanied him on mountain treks; his becoming recognized as a leading expert in appraising land for conservation easements; his wife, whose support and love shine brightly; his service to community and professional organizations; his grin under one or another of his hats and caps.
In contrast to such reflections, one hears the measured tone of the FDA: patience patience patience. One has little sense of urgency, of recognition that ALS usually runs a terribly short course. To each FDA staffer involved in any way in developing and approving drugs for ALS: Imagine a loved one having been diagnosed with ALS. Imagine how much patience you would have. Imagine how much patience your loved one would have. Act accordingly. Please.