December 07, 2008 Michael AugustineLisez en Francais
Hi Folks,
I confess that it has been over a decade since I’ve been a member of the modern work force. As such, meeting deadlines is a skill I’m am attempting to re-learn with some difficulty. Complicating the issue is my current state of health, which, while not ideal, is more challenging because of its unpredictable volatility, i.e. I never know what’s gonna happen next. I realize it has been over a nearly two months since I last posted a major entry, so I will try to break down the recent happenings into smaller, “bite-sized” pieces, to better allow you to follow my adventures.
Let’s start this missive with where I last left off...
For those of you who haven’t read my prior entries, I suffered a fairly disruptive relapse towards the end October. Without getting too specific, my life has been fairly chaotic lately, beyond just living with multiple sclerosis. Everything came to a head in October, when my animal companion of nearly thirteen years became suddenly ill and passed away. I’d imagine the best analogy to use would be that of a plug being pulled from the drain of a large and very full basin, as years of frustration started pouring out of me, all at once, with no real respite. The stress and exhaustion of that release, combined with my already compromised health, lead to a pretty challenging time of things.
Anyone who has experienced a similar situation (and I know there are many of you out there who have) will know that the best thing to do in that situation is to take step back, breath deeply, and focus on how to get better. In my case, that meant making a call to my local MS clinic, and talking to my neurologist about possible treatments. Thus, I called the hospital first thing the following Monday morning, and was granted an immediate appointment the next day.
Early that Tuesday, I made my way to the MS Clinic at St. Michael’s hospital in Toronto. Obviously, I was a bit anxious and hesitant when I arrived. I had no idea of what might or might not happen, but after speaking with two neurologists and a nurse, as well as doing some functional tests (these are coordination tests to determine your physical and mental dexterity), I consulted with the lead physician monitoring the trial drug study in which I am currently participating. He advised me that one of the more reliable options was a form of chemotherapy, to be administered intravenously.
Now, while this sounds like a harsh solution, the truth is that it is a very accepted form of treatment, and though there are side-effects in some instances, mine were remarkably mild, essentially leading only to an elevation in my energy levels that one could best quantify as “getting a bit hyper.” Although I observed this phenomenon happening, no one aside from myself even noticed any difference. If you are at all personally familiar with me, you will likely understand why.
One major challenge to this form of treatment is that it had to occur over 5 consecutive days, for a duration of roughly half-an-hour, at the same time each day. Thus, I was required to stay at home for the majority of my treatment. Travel was further complicated by the fact that I was required to maintain an exposed shunt in my hand, to facilitate treatment, and to avoid the unnecessary re-insertion of a new one each day. My nurses, all qualified experts, made using my manual wheelchair much easier by providing me with a mesh-like tubing that fit over my hand like a type of stocking, allowing me to function without dislodging the intravenous catheter.
The benefits of the treatment began to be felt within only a couple of days. While not a miracle cure, the extreme numbness and pain that had come about so quickly just as quickly started to abate, and I soon returned to a level of functioning that I was more accustomed to. However, with all the excitement now starting to ease, I suddenly remembered something that I had allowed, during my “upheaval,” to completely slip my mind:
the LOM Gala Every year, the firm LOM (Loewen, Ondaatje, McCutcheon), one of the country’s most vital components in the financial mecca that is Bay Street, holds an annual gala dinner and fundraiser to benefit the MS Society of Canada. It is often referred to as “Bay Street’s Biggest Party of the Year” and that is no exaggeration. I had previously attended the event as both a guest and volunteer, and, for the first time in several years, would have to miss it, as it coincided with my treatment schedule. I had previously called a friend at the MS Society’s head office to inform them that, under the circumstances, I would not be attending...but I have NEVER been very good at sitting still for long periods of time.
Despite having a visibly obvious medical device implanted in my hand, I defiantly (and, yes, stubbornly) decided I would not let my current state of health impede my ability to support a cause so close to my heart. So, having thoroughly enmeshed my hand in that same stocking material, I polished my shoes, put on my best suit and black tie, and made the two hour voyage via public transit to neighboring Toronto, where I proudly made my entrance to the venue.
People were genuinely surprised to see me. Word of my relapse had spread through the main office of the MS Society, and there was certainly a bit of concern from my friends. However, the major reactions came not from my bandaged hand, but from my appearance (possibly it was a knee-jerk reaction to a difficult situation, or perhaps I just needed a change, but at one point during my convalescence I had decided to both shave my head and grow a goatee). After the initial reactions settled, I began the business of greeting and networking, as I tended to the silent auction and, essentially, volunteered my little heart out. Over the course of the evening, and through the generosity of countless giving individuals, the event successfully raised over $500,000, with all proceeds going to help those living with multiple sclerosis.
For me, what made the night truly worth attending was not just the overwhelming support shown towards furthering MS research, but the number of those people, many of significant reputation and import, who not only made a point of saying that they had been personally disappointed when told I would not be attending, but who were as equally glad that I had decided to make the effort anyway. To me, at least, that was as significant and important as the hundreds of thousands of dollars raised that night.
It meant I had made the right decision.
I arrived home well after midnight, but I was as wide awake as I was the previous afternoon, elated that I had found the courage to not let my MS get in the way of my living my life. More than that, I had been able to witness the future take shape right before my eyes. That night, we had come one step closer to making our dream a reality. That night, we had come one step closer to being able to end MS! I cannot wait until the next LOM Gala in 2009! It can only get better!
I’ve finally come to understand that my life will always be about running my race only to keep hitting walls and tripping over hurdles. Frankly, we’re all running that race. However, I’m also starting to realize that the successes of my life won’t measured by how many walls I’ve broken through, nor by how many hurdles I’ve jumped. I don’t even believe it will be judged by how far or how long I’ve traveled. What will truly matter, I think, when that race is finished, will be if I’m able to say that no matter how many times I tripped up, I’ll have always been able to find the strength to pick myself up again, and keep going.
Like most pieces of wisdom, I’ll probably have to re-learn this one every day...but that’s just one more hurdle to jump!
Irreverently Yours,
Augy, who thinks he’d be pretty good at Track & Field