Remembering Sal Aunese: A Time For Prayers

Originally Published
In The Boulder Daily Camera
March 3, 1989
By
Ed Werder
DENVER-Somehow, through the mystifying maze of medical terminology that nobody completely comprehended and yet everyone somehow understood, there was an indication of human frailty and feeling Thursday at University Hospital.
There were tears.
Tears cried by grown men on this day of sadness and silence that accompanied the public disclosure of the chilling illness threatening the life of University of Colorado junior quarterback Sal Aunese.
There were tears welling in Dave Burton's eyes. Burton is the athletic trainer at the school. He tapes the ankles. Soothes sore muscles and broken bones. Listens to life's stories all the while. All of which builds a certain bond between the two. The trainer and the athlete.
A few days ago, earlier this week, Burton was concerned about Aunese. The player was at University Hospital in Denver undergoing a battery of tests, poking and prodding, to determine what was causeing his lymph nodes to bulge, what was making him continually cough, what was making an apparently physically fit 20-year-old college kid fell forever ill.
So Burton put through a call to Aunese's room on the seventh floor, masking his own deep concern with a mocking comment designed to make the patient smile despite his misery. "So, Sal," Burton said. "Have they found the tumor yet?"
They shared a laugh. They hadn't found the tumor yet. There were no smiles Tuesday. Few since. Biopsies on Tuesday uncovered a cancerous growth in Aunese's lungs and, worse still, the doctors feared it had its origins somewhere else. It did. A tumor had been located in Aunese's stomach and its tentacles extend into the lymph nodes around his lungs.
Aunese's condition is inoperable and life-threatening. Dr. Wayne Gersoff, the attending physician, had grim predictions.
"It depends on how well he responds to the chemotherapy," Gersoff said. "If someone with this condition asked me how long he would live, I would say he has anywhere from several months if there is no response to the chemotherapy to several years and even beyond that if there is response to the treatment. Others have had a five-year survival rate."
That was the news that made grown men cry. "I couldn't be closer to Sal if he were my own family," Burton said solemnly. "He was emotional when he first found out, but he's really been stoic lately. His initial response was that he didn't want anyone to know, period. He figured his family would find out and Coach Mac (Bill McCartney), but he didn't see any reason anybody else should know."
McCartney is described as emotionally devastated, more so now than when he was informed after that Oregon game almost five years ago that tight end Ed Reinhardt had lapsed into a coma from a brain injury suffered when he was hit in the helmet by an opponent's knee. Then McCartney genuflected, said a brief prayer and rushed to the hospital.
He has maintained an almost constant vigil with his team as well. Aunese's parents, his two sisters and a brother have been at his bedside, too. Numerous teammates have stopped in to exchange hugs, to share memories and precious moments.
Burton describes Aunese's mood as inspiring, saying the quarterback of Samoan descent wanted to leave the hospital as soon as possible and return to Boulder in time for the start of spring practice next week. Instead, that is when he will begin chemotherapy, a treatment in which powerful drugs destroy diseased cells and healthy ones as well.
No one asked whether Aunese would play football again during Thursday's press conference at the hospital. It seemed to go without saying. He won't. Of greater concern was how long the advancing disease would allow him to live. The prognosis is not encouraging.
It is a rare form of cancer that Aunese has contracted. It affects eight of every 100,000 Americans. Few of them are 20 years old. Few of them possess Aunese's athletic build or skill.
According to those who have seen him, Aunese looks healthy. When left unattended in the X-ray room downstairs on Thursday, he walked back to his room. But he is gravely ill.
"There's room for a lot of hope," Burton said. "Sal's got a great attitude for he feels good now. He's ready to start treatment. He's not laying back feeling sorry for himself."
He's prepared to fight for his life. The Aunese family, described as particularly strong collectively and individually, is asking not for flowers or cards.
They request your prayers.