That is the title of the latest monthly article I just wrote for the Pituitary Network Association's monthly newsletter chronicling my 10-yr 'journey' through chronic illness...
It's a bit embarrasing to realize that this segment reveals that the guy who many people think has been courageous in his battle with chronic illness has at times been quite mortal and not so brave... However, I hope that this article provides some inspiration...
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The crash of '99
After returning home to San Diego, I felt a great sense of accomplishment as I shared the story of my successful 112-mile bike ride. It was the beginning of the summer of 1999 and it seemed like things were finally starting to go my way… Some of my stock options vested at the beginning of June, providing a surprisingly large amount of cash. After years of struggling financially, I had finally made a breakthrough. I could hardly believe my good fortune when I drove away from the Toyota dealership in my brand-new 1999 Sienna van. What a great blessing it was to have been able to pay cash for my beautiful new van as well as catch up on all my bills. It was starting to look like my big comeback from illness and the adversities of the past few years was in full swing… I had lost a lot of weight in the last few months but I still had 50 more pounds to lose to get back to my old athletic self. I took a break from training by going camping in the Laguna Mountains near San Diego in late June but then it was time to get back on the bike and back in the gym. I signed up to do the next TNT (Team-in-Training) ride in November. I visualized crossing the line in the Lake Tahoe Century in under 6 hours…and at less than 180lbs. I also planned on returning to racing in time-trials. That’s where it’s just you and your bike racing against the clock. I had entered a race only once – in 1995 – but that was enough to get me hooked. I never felt more alive than I did putting the pedal-to-the-metal on the race course with my heart rate pegged at over 170bpm. I ordered an expensive time-trial bike – the Rocketwing. I figured by the time the Rocketwing arrived a few months later, my weight would be down enough to be able to compete in the local races. What an inspiring feeling to think that the ’fat sick guy’ was going to be a competitive bike racer!
In August, formal training began for the upcoming 100-mile bike ride in November. It was great to see my friends from the Leukemia Society’s TNT program. The first couple of weeks went great although I was somewhat concerned about how I was feeling. Riding the bike just didn’t seem as much fun as it should be. I had felt that way earlier in the year but assumed it would get better as my conditioning improved. And then it happened. My body crashed. For over a week, I felt completely exhausted. I tried to be optimistic but deep inside I feared that my old mysterious nemesis was back. I took almost a week off from work and began to feel a bit better. Maybe it was just a bug and would be gone soon… Or maybe my thyroid dosage was off. But I felt so much frustration when the tests came back normal. Throughout September the same relentless exhaustion persisted. My training came to a halt…I had to bail out of the 100-mile ride… and cancel my plans to be in the Christmas musical at church.
The annual camping trip with my friends to South Carlsbad State Beach was planned for the first week in October. I was looking forward to going but knew that it would be rough on me getting things ready unless I got some energy back. Indeed it was a bit draining, but I still felt a great sense of excitement when I finally finished setting up my tent trailer on a spot overlooking the Pacific Ocean. But later that night sitting around the campfire with my friends, it was obvious to my closest friend Katherine that I was hurting….
“Jim, you’re really having a hard time aren’t you? I can tell because you slump when you are sitting. But most of all, I see the hurt in your eyes…” She was right. My body was hurting all over and within an hour it was a struggle just to sit up. I had abstained from alcohol for almost a year because I was so focused on doing everything I could to lose weight and regain my fitness. But at that moment I just wanted to escape…from the physical pain...the frustration…the confusion…the disappointment. Certainly, I would never give up or lose my optimism but right now I desperately needed a break… I only had one thing to say to my friends gathered around the campfire…
“Will someone please make me a drink? And PLEASE, make it strong…”
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