I broke my collarbone when I was a toddler but have no memory of it. I had mono in sixth grade but it was mostly fun. As Grandma said if you have your health, you have everything. And I had my health.
That is until my days at the University of Maryland came to a close. I got sick to my stomach. I tried Pepto Bismol but it didn't work. I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis.
What did that mean? There was no internet to look it up. My friend Crazy Tommy wanted to know if I was going to die.
They gave me some pills and I got better. And then I got sick again. I was going to have this disease for the rest of my life.
I can recall vividly one colonoscopy at Georgetown University in DC. I was the subject of a big study because there were 30 students checking me out. I was in a dreamlike state but in no pain. And then one of the female student blared out, "Cover yourself up, that's disgusting."
I didn't know what to think and then went back to sleep. She repeated it. I barked out, "Don't look. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. I have this disease."
And then the doctor threw her out of the room. Another nurse grabbed my hand and smiled at me.
It was a disease that you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. One my coaches had his colon out because of it and told me that no one knows what you have have to go through.
And in better news, the damn disease has gone away. Credit to this medicine called Remicade. It blocks the infection. I have been disease-free for more than a year. And I know it's never coming back. When I get my injections, I sit with folks who still have this misery.
I wonder what my life would have been if I didn't have this disease for so long. Maybe it taught me a lesson or two about humility and the suffering of others. Or maybe it was that there really is some hell here on Earth.
I still haven't popped the champagne bottle yet celebrating victory. I wonder why.
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