Cure Crusader

Floyd Nichols was indomitable. He was only 19 when he was found to have a rare, lethal form of cancer that required the removal of his colon. But the young Chicagoan finished college, in spite of the additional burden of dyslexia, and became a successful computer salesman before starting his own mainframe business. By his mid-30s, he sold it off to begin what his family and friends thought would be a leisurely early retirement. When he told them he would cure cancer instead, they just laughed. How could a layman--even a wealthy one--do what had stumped even highly skilled scientists with Ph.D.s?

Ten years after he started his crusade--and three years after his death--they have their answer. The drug that Nichols championed has shown such promise that the Food and Drug Administration has put it on a fast-track review. A decision on its use could come any day.

Nichols' story is remarkable. He not only fought for the drug's development in the face of total disinterest by drugmakers and mainstream cancer scientists but may also have opened the door to a whole new family of cancer drugs. Says Dr. Francis Giardiello, chief of gastroenterology at Johns Hopkins: "He spurred them to look into this a lot deeper and a lot faster than they would have otherwise. He has a proud legacy." He may also posthumously save the life of his son.

The disease that struck Nichols as a teenager was familial adenomatous polyposis (FAP), a genetic disorder characterized by a wild--and potentially lethal--growth of cancerous polyps on the inner lining of the intestine. The only recourse is to remove them surgically, along with the intestinal wall, and outfit the patient, at least temporarily, with a waste-collection bag strapped to the body. Nichols desperately wanted to protect his son from that grim experience.

His determination increased when at age 35 he learned that his disease had returned. This time doctors recommended immediate--and even more serious--surgery: removal of parts of his stomach and small intestine. Although physicians told him there was no alternative, Nichols stubbornly decided to find one. Says his sister Elizabeth Troy: "He believed anything could be done. Failure was never an option, ever."

He began reading the medical literature and calling scientists. Eventually he talked to Dr. Randall Burt, now the chief of gastroenterology at the University of Utah. Coincidentally, Burt had just heard University of Colorado surgeon William Waddell tell a scientific meeting that he had seen an aspirin-like arthritis drug called sulindac (Merck) almost miraculously melt away colon polyps. The finding was anecdotal, observed in only a few patients, but it was just what Nichols wanted to hear.

He promptly informed his doctors at the University of Chicago that he would try the drug. Almost unanimously they advised against it; one called the idea suicidal. Besides, it could produce severe side effects. But Nichols took the drug anyway--and it eliminated his polyps.