All right enough doom and gloom. Yes, my life sucks right now and my body is trying to call it quits, but guess what? I am not. Lets get back to the funny Derek shall we? I don’t have a lot to offer physically however my mind is still ticking the hours away. I cannot bury my head in the sand and pretend this is not happening or that it will go away. It is what it is! What I can do is try and make the best of my time while I can.
At the request of my physical therapists and friend Bruno to get riding again I decided to give it a try. Mentally I have been paralyzed with fear thinking it was going to be impossible to achieve. This Saturday morning after dusting off my Trek Madone 5.2 Discovery Channel version road bike, in preparation for a short spin, I stood there looking at the stunning blue shining carbon-fiber steed. “Wow! That sure looks like a nice ride”, I say to myself.
Once I rubbed the sparkles from my eyes it was time to suit up. Cycling shoes, helmet, jersey, and the dreaded cycling shorts. Ahhh, the shorts, there they were hanging in the closet. Black, padded, and uncompromising from what I remember. It was time to squeeze myself into them, or so I thought. Both legs in and up they go until they stopped cruelly.
Mercilessly I tugged and yanked until they were on. Ohh the pain, the agony of something that used to fit? I took a quick look in the mirror and was mortified. There it was 25lbs of pork fat jammed into a 5 lb casing, it was not a pretty sight. I could hear the Hillshire Farms commercial in the background…. GO MEAT!!!!
The humility aside it was time to hit the asphalt. I donned my cooling vest, Froggy wet towel and knee brace then guardedly walked the “blue streak” to the road. Daisy watching me with anticipation of a walk, but no, this was my event. After my adjustments compensating for the lack of feeling in my left leg and foot were made to my pedal clips, it was time. My left foot already clipped in I push off and straddle the bike. A few tense moments of balance issues later I was rolling. Now fully clipped and peddling slowly it was all coming back to me. It was just like the catch phrase “it’s just like riding a bike”.
I was doing it!! I was doing it, Ye-haw I can still do the things that I like.
Very quickly another unyielding sensation became very apparent. The seat or what cyclists call the “saddle”. Very small and never in the right area was now intruding into my “man Junk” and areas south. Again, not an appealing sensation however all a part of the game. I was struggling at first but fortunately for me my left butt cheek and central area are numb so it was easily manageable. I was “Back in the Saddle again”.
I headed for the end of my road with what I am sure was the biggest smile on my face that anyone could ever have. Feeling like I was flying at warp speed with the wind blowing in my face I check my progress by looking at the speedometer. What an emotional high I was on until that glance at my Speedo that read 9 mph. Ughhh I thought, is that it? Well at least I was on the road, not fast, not pretty, but on the path to a brighter day. I peddled to the main road and made a right turn towards the “Dead end” sign. As I passes the sign I could only say to myself its not a dead end for me!!! It’s an open road for me to choose how far I want to travel.
Reaching the turn around point I execute a flawless maneuver and headed the other direction. I am on the road to recovery, keep going, don’t let yourself quit, I listen to the voices in my head and keep pedaling. As I pedal I feel my legs speaking a language of their own. “Fire, fire, were on fire,” they scream. Relentlessly I push on to the end of the main road where I try to extinguish the fire by stopping and taking a drink in hopes of squelching the burn.
Personal “SAG” stop over and legs still smoldering its time to trek back to the house. I travel homeward bound reveling in my own joy about something so simple as a short bike ride. Each stroke of the pedal pushed me inch by inch onward. The cadence was enjoyable though be it not as fast as my heart rate. I was traveling the road alone.
Only three miles under my belt final destination ahead I ponder the ramifications of my excursion. How will I feel tomorrow? How are my legs and arms going to be? The gate is ahead and I slow to a halt. Dismounting then rapidly realizing my legs are now like two tree stumps. Hard and unyielding to movement I don’t panic but take my time and shuffle my way to the house. Disrobe and slide into the cooling waters of the swimming pool for stretch and cool down time. It was not far but it might as well have been a century ride. I made it my first attempt of climbing out of the well of hopelessness!!!
Derek
"Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever." — Lance Armstrong (It's Not About the Bike: My Journey Back to Life)
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
SIGNS
With my heart clear of my own transgressions from my past I feel the ability to move forward with the clear-cut challenges I face now. My physical resources being stripped from me I am in a hurried pace to catch up with my intellectual abilities. For a long time I have been known as Derek “the Mr. fix it guy”. I could do anything mechanical, repair something broken, build it from scratch, and make dreams come true. These things came very natural and with ease. I thank the gift from my father; work hard, do it right and revel in the fact that “YOU” did it. No longer able to do the same tasks I do not feel like I have a purpose and that I am defined as a man of no value any longer.
Things of the physical nature coming so easily to me my new challenges popping up now make it feel like I have entered the worst game of chess in my life. Every time life makes a move I have to analyze it and come up with a way to counteract it. Working on a counter strategy has become very difficult with so many variables that I cannot foresee. Let alone that I must face them alone. My friends close and far have been instrumental in helping with everything.
The only thing that they cannot help with is the loneliness that is overpowering. Unfortunately loneliness seems to hold hands with depression, as they are powerful allies.
Fortunately God sends signs my way just when I need them the most. Just this previous Thursday a friend from my past that I have not spoken to in many years called me. Our long phone conversation filled him in on my status. We discussed many things including the fact that his girlfriend of three years has MS of which she was diagnosed 13 years prior. He asked if it would be all right if they visited. I was very exited to re-connect and ask many question to someone that is afflicted with the same disease.
Friday afternoon arrived and so did my old friend with his new girlfriend. Not knowing what to expect as they knocked at the door, I was nervous to meet her. Introducing me he said, “I would like you to meet Amy”. Her chiseled face, perfect teeth, dark hair, and soft complexion mesmerized me. She was beautiful. As the cordials of not seeing someone for such a long time passed my focus was on speaking with Amy to ask unanswered questions about MS and her journey.
We discussed her trials and pitfalls for hours. It was a moving experience for me to sit in my house with someone I had so much in common with. It felt very comfortable. I was not afraid to ask personal questions and she seemed more than happy to oblige any answer. We laughed, we cried, and had an overall great conversation. I was under the impression that no one could love me now that I am damaged goods but she proved that there is hope after all. I am still the same funny guy as I always was.
The following day I was scheduled for my nurse to come and give me my IV of Solu-medrol. Amy’s kindness overwhelmed me, without hesitation she asked if she could visit with me after it was complete because she knew how ill it and my chemo medicine would make me feel. “It’s not good to be alone” she stated sympathetically.
The next day after my infusion was complete Amy brought three gallons of drinking water and several liters of mixed cranberry juices as she informed me I need to drink as much as I could it would help. She even brought a ham, cheese and cracker tray to eat while we sat and discussed her experience. Another sign that I was going to be OK.
My discussion of my marriage came up with my friend and he reassured me my self-esteem would return after my tragic experience. Knowing the kind of person I am he told me, “A man is not defined by what he does in front of people, its’ what he does when people are not looking that matters.” And reassured me that people that really know me would always be there to help no matter what happens.
God, thanks for the sign!!!
Derek Lee
Things of the physical nature coming so easily to me my new challenges popping up now make it feel like I have entered the worst game of chess in my life. Every time life makes a move I have to analyze it and come up with a way to counteract it. Working on a counter strategy has become very difficult with so many variables that I cannot foresee. Let alone that I must face them alone. My friends close and far have been instrumental in helping with everything.
The only thing that they cannot help with is the loneliness that is overpowering. Unfortunately loneliness seems to hold hands with depression, as they are powerful allies.
Fortunately God sends signs my way just when I need them the most. Just this previous Thursday a friend from my past that I have not spoken to in many years called me. Our long phone conversation filled him in on my status. We discussed many things including the fact that his girlfriend of three years has MS of which she was diagnosed 13 years prior. He asked if it would be all right if they visited. I was very exited to re-connect and ask many question to someone that is afflicted with the same disease.
Friday afternoon arrived and so did my old friend with his new girlfriend. Not knowing what to expect as they knocked at the door, I was nervous to meet her. Introducing me he said, “I would like you to meet Amy”. Her chiseled face, perfect teeth, dark hair, and soft complexion mesmerized me. She was beautiful. As the cordials of not seeing someone for such a long time passed my focus was on speaking with Amy to ask unanswered questions about MS and her journey.
We discussed her trials and pitfalls for hours. It was a moving experience for me to sit in my house with someone I had so much in common with. It felt very comfortable. I was not afraid to ask personal questions and she seemed more than happy to oblige any answer. We laughed, we cried, and had an overall great conversation. I was under the impression that no one could love me now that I am damaged goods but she proved that there is hope after all. I am still the same funny guy as I always was.
The following day I was scheduled for my nurse to come and give me my IV of Solu-medrol. Amy’s kindness overwhelmed me, without hesitation she asked if she could visit with me after it was complete because she knew how ill it and my chemo medicine would make me feel. “It’s not good to be alone” she stated sympathetically.
The next day after my infusion was complete Amy brought three gallons of drinking water and several liters of mixed cranberry juices as she informed me I need to drink as much as I could it would help. She even brought a ham, cheese and cracker tray to eat while we sat and discussed her experience. Another sign that I was going to be OK.
My discussion of my marriage came up with my friend and he reassured me my self-esteem would return after my tragic experience. Knowing the kind of person I am he told me, “A man is not defined by what he does in front of people, its’ what he does when people are not looking that matters.” And reassured me that people that really know me would always be there to help no matter what happens.
God, thanks for the sign!!!
Derek Lee
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
MAKING PEACE
My trip to NY went well as seeing the family, cousins, and old friends was comforting to me. My mothers’ wedding was very modest with mostly family and a few friends attended in the small chapel just on the outskirts of town. I was asked to walk her down the isle to give her away to her new soon to be companion.
As the day approached I had uncertainties of being able to walk down the isle to present my mother to another man. While my reasons for apprehension were totally mine I could not explain them in words to anyone. Although she had been dating him for over 16 years I still felt that something was not right. Would I have the strenght and stamina to walk it with her?
The day arrived and all were seated in the chapel. It was now my time to be strong for her and myself. Music playing in the background we proceded our wedding march towards the reverend and all in attendance that were about to bare witness.
While walking my mother held my arm as we made our slow approach to the alter, she gripped me very tight as my walk had become very weak. “Could anyone see? Could they tell how weak I am?” I thought as we passed by so many. I did not want to let my mother down on “her” day. I could feel her help stable me as I started to lose my balance during the last few paces. Just like I was a child learning to walk for the first time there she was to hold me up and steady me. Her eyes saying everything “it’s all right son I am here for you”.
The ceremony proceeded and before I new it the question was asked, “who gives this woman to be wed?" Glancing at my sister Brandee, standing for mother’s maid of honor, with the look of disbelief that mom was going to marry another man. She smiled and I knew that my response had to be “our family” because she was just a part of our mother as I. Reaching for the grooms hand to place into my mothers I gripped it firmly to stand strong and place it into my mothers awaiting palm. At that moment my heart felt pain. Not because I didn’t want my mother to re-marry, but the feeling of loss for my father. It was like he had just died all over again.
The sensation of loss still in my heart the wedding was over. My aunt and I departed for the reception hall I asked if it would be all right if she would stop by the cemetery where my father was. I told her I needed to see the place where he was buried, as the last time I was there; there was snow and no headstone. She agreed. Driving thru the burial grounds she asked “are you sure I want to do this”. I replied despondently “yes I need to.”
We rounded the corner as aunt “Winnie” pointed out his headstone. Stopping to let me out I walked to face the writing and was taken aback by the color of the granite. It was a beautiful salmon color with speckles that glistened in the sun that was directly behind me shining onto the engraved face that read (Sanford “Sandy” L. Nickerson May 14, 1944 – Feb 29, 2008) with the Masons symbol embossed on the bottom. Being very careful not to disrespect him I stood to the side as I made my peace with my father. I let the things from my past go and felt the washing of healing flood my soul.
Looking to the car to see if my aunt was coming to stand with me I saw her sitting there crying as I new she too respected my time and what I must be doing. The sun was setting. Looking down my silhouette now covered the headstone, as I gazed at his name I realized that I now shadowed him. I did not want to appear weak and fragile while I stood hoping that he would be proud of me. Today MS does not have me!!!
At my father’s funeral the pastor spoke about our lives having more meaning than the dash ( - ) between the day we are born and the day we die. The lives we impact and friends we make along the way make up the dash. I hope I have a long dash between mine.
Thanks friends for letting me share my moments with you.
Derek Lee
“You can close your eyes to what you don’t want to see, but you can’t close your heart to what you don’t want to feel!” Aunt “Fred’s” bench.
As the day approached I had uncertainties of being able to walk down the isle to present my mother to another man. While my reasons for apprehension were totally mine I could not explain them in words to anyone. Although she had been dating him for over 16 years I still felt that something was not right. Would I have the strenght and stamina to walk it with her?
The day arrived and all were seated in the chapel. It was now my time to be strong for her and myself. Music playing in the background we proceded our wedding march towards the reverend and all in attendance that were about to bare witness.
While walking my mother held my arm as we made our slow approach to the alter, she gripped me very tight as my walk had become very weak. “Could anyone see? Could they tell how weak I am?” I thought as we passed by so many. I did not want to let my mother down on “her” day. I could feel her help stable me as I started to lose my balance during the last few paces. Just like I was a child learning to walk for the first time there she was to hold me up and steady me. Her eyes saying everything “it’s all right son I am here for you”.
The ceremony proceeded and before I new it the question was asked, “who gives this woman to be wed?" Glancing at my sister Brandee, standing for mother’s maid of honor, with the look of disbelief that mom was going to marry another man. She smiled and I knew that my response had to be “our family” because she was just a part of our mother as I. Reaching for the grooms hand to place into my mothers I gripped it firmly to stand strong and place it into my mothers awaiting palm. At that moment my heart felt pain. Not because I didn’t want my mother to re-marry, but the feeling of loss for my father. It was like he had just died all over again.
The sensation of loss still in my heart the wedding was over. My aunt and I departed for the reception hall I asked if it would be all right if she would stop by the cemetery where my father was. I told her I needed to see the place where he was buried, as the last time I was there; there was snow and no headstone. She agreed. Driving thru the burial grounds she asked “are you sure I want to do this”. I replied despondently “yes I need to.”
We rounded the corner as aunt “Winnie” pointed out his headstone. Stopping to let me out I walked to face the writing and was taken aback by the color of the granite. It was a beautiful salmon color with speckles that glistened in the sun that was directly behind me shining onto the engraved face that read (Sanford “Sandy” L. Nickerson May 14, 1944 – Feb 29, 2008) with the Masons symbol embossed on the bottom. Being very careful not to disrespect him I stood to the side as I made my peace with my father. I let the things from my past go and felt the washing of healing flood my soul.
Looking to the car to see if my aunt was coming to stand with me I saw her sitting there crying as I new she too respected my time and what I must be doing. The sun was setting. Looking down my silhouette now covered the headstone, as I gazed at his name I realized that I now shadowed him. I did not want to appear weak and fragile while I stood hoping that he would be proud of me. Today MS does not have me!!!
At my father’s funeral the pastor spoke about our lives having more meaning than the dash ( - ) between the day we are born and the day we die. The lives we impact and friends we make along the way make up the dash. I hope I have a long dash between mine.
Thanks friends for letting me share my moments with you.
Derek Lee
“You can close your eyes to what you don’t want to see, but you can’t close your heart to what you don’t want to feel!” Aunt “Fred’s” bench.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
DENTED CAN
Have you ever felt as though your life is out of control an you are careening down a winding road with no brakes and your ability of stopping is beyond comprehension? That seems to be the road I am traveling. Many things are out of my control and I do not have the physical strength to mash my foot on the brakes and make it come to a screeching halt.
As I wind down the road of uncertainty my health goes with it just as fast. Struggling over obstacle after obstacle it seem as though I can not catch a break. I have been very fortunate not to experience physical pain until lately. The past several weeks I have developed excruciating pain in my abdomen, groin, and left leg. On top of that I feel like I am always drunk and lose my balance quite easily. While traveling back to NY for my mothers wedding I decided to see Dr. Latif my neurologist that diagnosed me with MS.
My wonderful sister took it again upon herself to get me to his office and sit thru the exam. As Dr Latif asks the question “so…Derek how are we doing today?” the details surface. Listening to everything going on he suggests that the Betaseron may not be working and we might want to think about changing to another medicine. However before we do he is putting me on a short term low-dose of chemotherapy medicine to lower my immune system even more to see if that will boost the effectiveness of the Betaseron interferon. He also prescribes another medicine that should help with my dizziness. I hope!!!!
For the abdomen and leg pain he recommends I see the doctor my sister works for, so the visit is scheduled later this week. We will see how it goes.
Not in the best of spirits I stop at the drugstore to pick up the new meds. Dropping off the prescriptions for yet more medication I peruse the local Walgreens. Killing time I pass by a cart full of discounted items. I notice that the majority of things are dented cans of various items. Oddly enough I pick a can of corned beef hash that was severely dented and could not put it down. I read the ingredients over and over and had flashbacks of making breakfast hashers with scrambled eggs, cheese and gravy over top.
As I stood there I could not help but remember the smell of it cooking and the joyous flavor at the first bite. I slowly placed the can back with the others as I thought how the dented can mirrored my life. All it took was one dent in my life to be tossed aside and put in the discount bin for all to pass. Read the ingredients of my life, I still have a lot of good stuff inside but because of a flaw I just don’t seem to be the same.
Look past the dents in life, take the time to read the ingredients, you will never know how good things are if you don’t.
Derek Lee
As I wind down the road of uncertainty my health goes with it just as fast. Struggling over obstacle after obstacle it seem as though I can not catch a break. I have been very fortunate not to experience physical pain until lately. The past several weeks I have developed excruciating pain in my abdomen, groin, and left leg. On top of that I feel like I am always drunk and lose my balance quite easily. While traveling back to NY for my mothers wedding I decided to see Dr. Latif my neurologist that diagnosed me with MS.
My wonderful sister took it again upon herself to get me to his office and sit thru the exam. As Dr Latif asks the question “so…Derek how are we doing today?” the details surface. Listening to everything going on he suggests that the Betaseron may not be working and we might want to think about changing to another medicine. However before we do he is putting me on a short term low-dose of chemotherapy medicine to lower my immune system even more to see if that will boost the effectiveness of the Betaseron interferon. He also prescribes another medicine that should help with my dizziness. I hope!!!!
For the abdomen and leg pain he recommends I see the doctor my sister works for, so the visit is scheduled later this week. We will see how it goes.
Not in the best of spirits I stop at the drugstore to pick up the new meds. Dropping off the prescriptions for yet more medication I peruse the local Walgreens. Killing time I pass by a cart full of discounted items. I notice that the majority of things are dented cans of various items. Oddly enough I pick a can of corned beef hash that was severely dented and could not put it down. I read the ingredients over and over and had flashbacks of making breakfast hashers with scrambled eggs, cheese and gravy over top.
As I stood there I could not help but remember the smell of it cooking and the joyous flavor at the first bite. I slowly placed the can back with the others as I thought how the dented can mirrored my life. All it took was one dent in my life to be tossed aside and put in the discount bin for all to pass. Read the ingredients of my life, I still have a lot of good stuff inside but because of a flaw I just don’t seem to be the same.
Look past the dents in life, take the time to read the ingredients, you will never know how good things are if you don’t.
Derek Lee
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