BOY MAKES PROGRESS IN BRAIN CANCER FIGHT.

Byline: Kermit Pattison Daily News Staff Writer

Just after his second birthday, little Justin Bishop's voice began to slur. Legs that had been growing stronger by the day began to stumble. The growing boy's appetite faltered.

A few weeks later, a physician took Justin's parents aside and uttered two words that changed the Camarillo family forever.

Brain tumor.

"We expected we were going to lose him right away," said his mother, Jane Bishop. "We felt there was really no hope because we had no information on brain tumors in children."

Six months after being diagnosed with a fast-growing brain cancer, Justin is fighting for his life against a disease that kills about two-thirds of the children it strikes. He has endured brain surgery, chemotherapy and a bone-marrow transplant, and five weeks inside a sterile plastic bubble at a time in his life when he should be making friends, learning to play ball or playing with his dog, Bud.

Despite the odds, the toddler's high spirits and strong progress have given the family hope.

"He's a fighter," said his father, Joe Bishop. "We're very proud of him. He'll be 3 in May and he handles it better than teen-agers going through the same thing."

On Friday, Justin scored another small victory by leaving his sterile bubble room in Childrens Hospital of Los Angeles. He will stay at Ronald McDonald House for a few days then hopefully return home to Camarillo later this month.

When Justin started losing his balance and slurring his words in July, they assumed it was a flare-up of an old earache.

But the pediatrician who examined Justin ruled out an earache after finding his ears were clear.

The family went to neurologist William Goldie at the Ventura County Medical Center. The doctor peered into the boy's eyes and ears, examined the tilt of his head and felt around his scalp.

Then the doctor turned to the parents and offered a diagnosis that had never crossed their minds. He said the boy had symptoms of a brain tumor.

"My husband and I just about fell on the floor," said Jane Bishop. "It was just devastating."

The following weekend was the worst in the Bishops' lives. They couldn't sleep. Parents, aunts and uncles rushed to their home or flew in from out of state to offer comfort.

The parents kept caressing Justin and turning a single thought over and over in their heads: "We are going to lose our little boy."

"We videotaped him because we didn't know if that would be the last we would see him like that," said Jane Bishop. "We didn't know about the surgery and didn't know if there would be nerve damage or if he would be the same. We didn't even know if he would survive."

By early the following week, a team of doctors assembled at Childrens Hospital of Los Angeles. They confirmed the diagnosis with an MRI scan and decided to remove the fast-growing tumor right away.

A few days after his first diagnosis, Justin went into brain surgery. Doctors spent more than six hours removing a tumor the size of a golf ball from inside the back of his skull near the brain stem.

The ependymoma tumor had taken root in a sensitive area near where the brain connects with the spine. Luckily, it apparently had not spread into the spinal fluids.

Then Justin began five months of grueling chemotherapy to kill any cancer cells that might have been left behind by the surgery. Doctors put a central line in his chest so they could administer chemotherapy and medication and draw blood.

He went through four-day chemotherapy sessions every month. He vomited, his stomach hurt, and sores formed on his intestines and mouth. He grew angry.

"He would would throw his toys, he would kick his feet," said Jane Bishop. "As a parent, I was told I should feel good because he's fighting it and not just laying there limp. It's better to have a fighter."

Finally in January, the hospital gave Justin one last dose of chemotherapy - one so powerful it would kill off his blood cells.

Before the session, doctors extracted marrow from his pelvis. A few days later, they put the marrow back into his central line, allowing his body to redistribute the cells and rebuild his blood system.

The procedure wiped out Justin's immune system to the point where a common illness like measles or chicken pox could kill him. The hospital put him in a bubble isolation room that was pressurized so no airborne germs could enter from outside.

The hospital chemically sterilized his stuffed Casper the Ghost and teddy bears before allowing them in the room. They scrubbed down his beloved matchbox cars.

Visitors had to wear masks, bootees, gloves and gowns. The family and hospital kept special watch on Justin's 6-year-old sister, Jessica, to make sure she did not bring deadly germs from school.

Jane quit her job and moved into the Ronald McDonald House near the hospital so she could be with her son around the clock. Joe remained at home to continue his job as facilities maintenance manager at Las Posas Country Club and take care of Jessica and drove down to Los Angeles to visit.

"Justin, every time he sees his sister, is the happiest boy in the world," said Joe Bishop. "A lot of brothers and sisters fight a lot, but they love each other more than ever. They're real close."

Justin cannot play ball or learn to ride a tricycle or go through many of the rites of passage for a child his age. But his parents have tried to keep his life as ordinary as possible.

"We're treating him just like a normal child growing up," said Joe Bishop. "He's going to have rules just like everybody else does. If he wants his dessert, he's going to have to eat his dinner."

The toddler thinks a hospital room and tube in the chest is just a normal part of life. Justin passes the time with his mom playing with his matchbox cars and stuffed animals. Or he may watch a Casper the Ghost video.

"Other than the fact he doesn't have hair, he's just a normal little toddler who loves all the little toddler things," said Dr. Judy Villablanca, a pediatric oncologist who serves as Justin's primary physician. "He's a treat to meet."

Finally on Friday, Justin emerged after five weeks in the bubble. He will stay at the Ronald McDonald House for a few days until doctors decide he is ready to return home.

"It was such a big day for us just to see him get outdoors," said his mother. "He was kind of overwhelmed. I wound up carrying him because he got out of breath."

But the family knows the road to recovery is far from over.

Doctors have told them only about a third of children with such tumors survive. While grateful for the boy's strong recovery, the parents are haunted by the fear that somewhere in Justin's body cancer cells could be multiplying.

"In the back of our minds, we know we'll have to be back here in a few years," said Jane Bishop. "But we're hoping we'll be farther along in being able to fight off cancer in kids."

"We're just trying to keep him as oblivious as we can," she said. "We just want to keep him as happy and normal as possible."

Justin may have to return to Childrens Hospital in a few weeks for spot radiation treatments to his head. The rest of his life will be punctuated by doctors visits and tests to determine if the cancer has reappeared.

But for now, his family is overjoyed to have Justin on his way home.

They have washed surfaces in the home with bleach to kill off germs. They have bought an air filter machine. They must bar visitors and take food out of the house for the first few months after Justin's return.

But his cozy room is waiting. And his dog Bud, the Australian shepherd and Labrador mix will be glad to see him home again.

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Photo (ran in SIMI, CONEJO, and BULLDOG--color in SIMI and CONEJO) Joe and Jane Bishop are overjoyed their son, Justin, survived brain surgery and will soon come home. Gene Blevins/Special to the Daily News