THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, May 19, 1995 TAG: 9505180359
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 28 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Pam Starr
LENGTH: Medium: 89 lines
Amy Damron was one of the most popular girls at Cox High School 15 years ago.
An honor roll student with a penchant for horseback riding and tennis, Amy was liked by everyone and made friends easily. She was the perfect girl next door, with those liquid brown eyes, sun bleached blond hair and ever-ready smile. Amy graduated in 1980 and started attending Old Dominion University that fall.
Everything changed two weeks into the semester. She was driving one day when she lost control of the car. The car hit three trees and the impact broke Amy's femur bone. About a year later she came down with a rare autoimmune disorder called scleroderma, where the connective tissue in and around the capillaries becomes inflamed.
As the inflammation heals, it scars internally, making the tissue shrink and become hard. It affects nearly every system in the body and is especially hard on the nervous system. Doctors don't know what causes scleroderma and there is no cure.
And life was never the same for the free-spirited girl from Great Neck, the one who loved to fish with her father. Amy courageously fought the painful disease for 12 years, until her shriveled body finally gave out this year on Feb. 26. She was 32. Her parents, Dave and Rosamund Damron, and sisters Melanie Lawrence and Shawn Gard don't want her death to be in vain. They want to educate the public about this debilitating disease, which affects more than 700,000 Americans.
``This is our way of keeping Amy's memory alive,'' said Rosamund, wiping tears from her eyes. ``It's so hard to lose a child, but Dave reminds me it was too much suffering for her. Now she has peace.''
Doctors had never seen such a serious case of scleroderma before Amy, Rosamund said. Her fingers would bend like talons and turn black. The broken bone in her left leg never healed properly and had to be amputated. Amy had to use a stomach tube for feeding because she couldn't digest food properly. Constant reflux caused burning in her esophagus.
She spent a third of her life in hospitals in Hampton Roads as well as some in Boston, Charleston, S.C., and Canada. Doctors put Amy on many different kinds of antibiotics. None worked and only further weakened her immune system. The hardening tissues were extremely painful, and Amy took strong pain medication every day. But the steroids she had to take for the inflammation caused her pretty face to swell grotesquely. That was rough for everyone, said Rosamund as she showed pictures of a swollen Amy astride a motorized scooter. Amy lived in her parents' home until her death.
``She had boyfriends who visited until she got so swollen,'' said Rosamund, a teacher at Lynnhaven Middle School. ``That hurt her. But Amy would go around the hospital in her scooter and try to boost the spirits of cancer patients.
``The hardest part was when Amy couldn't sleep from the pain,'' she added, her eyes tearing. ``And I couldn't do anything for her.''
One thing that did lessen Amy's pain and depression was the arrival nearly two years ago of a frisky rat terrier puppy named Holly. Sister Melanie bought Amy the pooch that July as a birthday present. Amy had owned a larger dog that she had to sell because she couldn't take care of it.
``Amy was so depressed I decided to buy her a dog,'' said Melanie. ``Amy fell in love with her in five minutes. She'd put Holly on the scooter and ride her around.''
The puppy slept on Amy's bed right up until the night she died. Rosamund recalled that when she went in that morning to check on Amy, the dog was standing straight up on the bed, which was unusual.
``I told Amy to roll over and she didn't answer,'' said Rosamund. ``Her body was completely cold. Doctors said she had a pulmonary embolism in her sleep.''
Although Amy's family is still in the throes of grieving, they want to hold a fund-raiser soon to help raise money for the National Scleroderma Foundation. Scleroderma only receives $1.6 million in government funds, Melanie said, while the Muscular Dystrophy Association gets $80 million. And scleroderma has twice as many victims.
``We're thinking of holding a walk-a-thon or something like that,'' she said. ``We don't know yet. We want to find something that'll work. We've got to make the public aware first.'' MEMO: If you have any fund-raising ideas that would help the Damron family,
contact Melanie Lawrence at 423-7514 days till 3:30 p.m. or 479-3518
afterward.
ILLUSTRATION: Staff photo by CHARLIE MEADS
Rosamund Damron, left, David Damron and their daughter, Melanie
Lawrence, hope to keep alive the memory of Amy Damron by raising
funds for the National Scleroderma Foundation.
by CNB