From Santa Anita Publicity
ARCADIA, Calif. (May 4, 2016) — Barry Abrams has turned in his trainer’s license and is taking a leave of absence due to health problems.
“I might go back to training, I might not. At this point, I’m officially not training any horses,” said the 62-year-old Abrams, who has battled cancer for the past 11 years.
Wednesday morning, back at his usual table at Clockers’ Corner, Abrams was barely audible as he explained his dire circumstances, resulting from inoperable throat cancer that first surfaced in 2005.
“I had to turn in my license,” Abrams said. “Otherwise I can’t run horses that I own, even though I only own pieces of horses now. I turned over my four horses to Tim Yakteen.”
Abrams also is minority owner of the remarkable 26-year-old stallion Unusual Heat, who stands for $20,000 at the Harris Ranch in Coalinga.
Surgery in 2005 cost Abrams half of his voice box. He has no taste buds, can’t swallow, uses a feeding tube, can’t eat, and can’t run. “I’m just happy to be alive,” he said.
“After my initial throat cancer, six years later cancer came back on my jugular and carotid arteries, and I had to go through surgery with only a 10 percent chance of survival. No doctor wanted to touch me, because one wrong move operating on the jugular and it’s over.
“I found one brave cancer surgeon, Dr. Poomima Rao of Huntington Memorial Hospital, who agreed to perform the surgery. After a five-hour operation, she was able to scrape the cancer off the carotid and jugular. I then had to undergo chemo and radiation in the throat area twice a day for 40 days.
“It was a miracle that I survived.”
Abrams, who started as a groom in 1971 and began training in 1975, has been to hell and back. Right now, hell has the upper hand.
It is difficult to understand Abrams, even when a listener puts his ear close to his lips. “I can’t communicate to my owners,” Abrams said, “but I’ll be back. The horses will be here forever but it’s not fair to my owners when I can’t communicate. It’s hard to train when you can’t yell at the jockeys or your help.
“I’ll be at Santa Anita every morning until I’m dead. Right now, I’m just worried about waking up every morning.”