My CF Story

It only took 23 years, but I have just passed the denial stage of my Cystic Fibrosis battle. I’m only kidding, but I wasn’t too into the education, blog reading, 5k walking side of my CF for a long time. I stuck to the belief that out of sight was out of mind. The less I did my breathing, the less I had to be sick with CF. That being said, I know I need to change my habits.  However, as you are well aware, parents, doctors and PFT results don’t always provide enough motivation.

That’s why I am writing a blog. I am not writing to brag about my great health, complain about my stomach aches or ask the world to feel sorry for me. I’m simply looking to involve myself more heavily in the social networking, educational, doing my breathing treatments side of CF. I hope that involving myself in the CF community will force me to carry the burden of accountability.

My first blog experience was with Ronnie Sharpe’s blog and boy was it eye opening! I felt like I was reading the diary I never had the courage to write. I opened a vast portal of information, shared experiences and unconventional remedies that I never knew existed. He understands the shared purpose of promoting healthy CF’ers, which leads him to openly sharing his experiences in an amazing way. So before I move any farther, thanks Ronnie and Mandi and of course, congratulations on your baby!

I was diagnosed with CF at birth and had a number of health issues. I had meconium ileius, which although I don’t completely understand, I know it’s disgusting.   I had a number of surgeries and spent the first 7 weeks in a drug infused state. 15 years and a million enzymes later and I’m your typical annoying teenager. I play tons of sports and tell everyone that my scar was the result of a shark bite.

Near the end of high school, I had my first of 10+ (lost track) bowel obstructions. They involve lots of pain killers, a tube down your nose and in my case, lots of complaining. Fortunately, I have an amazing network of family and friends, including a mother who has spent every night in the hospital next to me and a supportive girlfriend who encourages me to write, do my treatments and run half marathons.

Overall, I have calculated my total days in the hospital to be just under a half year of my life. Although hospital stays are miserable, the world is brighter when you emerge; Food tastes better, sports are more fun and your experiences force you to take time to appreciate the little things.

After two bowel obstructions in a row, I had “exploratory surgery”. This unorthodox procedure is comparable to that time you were exploring around your fridge for something that smelled bad. Seven hours later and I was as good as new. To my understanding, my intestines looked like dried up spaghetti and had to be surgically untangled. Hungry yet? Another two weeks down the drain, but I learned a lot about myself and came away with a new appreciation for loved ones. Therein lies the theme of CF life, although there may be some suffering, if you can overcome it, you become that much stronger.

Around the time of this onslaught of hospital visits, I got my nebulizer and a host of other medicines. I’ve played sports my whole life and have had very little lung trouble. Although my PFTs aren’t great, my lungs have not held me back in any aspect of life! I understand that if I’m not diligent from this point forward, I will have a hefty price to pay.

That brings me to my current spot in life. I finished college and got a job in the marketing world at a government agency. I do marketing for bicycle programs. This fortunate turn of events keeps me in shape, as it evolved into my most recent hobby of cycling. I want to use this blog to talk about the value of exercise, my ongoing experiences with CF and to ask for help and guidance along the way.

Zombies according to Wes

Are you wondering how Zombies became the new gourmet cupcake? As a zombie enthusiast myself, I’m just the man to explain this phenomena.

Let me start with the most obtrusive feature of the zombie genre, violence and gore. Much like death and taxes, this aspect of the genre is necessary, but is an element of lesser importance in a good zombie production. Personally, I don’t much care for the gore and destruction; I can’t make it through an episode of Grey’s Anatomy without shielding my eyes or leaving the room. Nevertheless, the violence and destruction creates a framework for the zombie world.

“Right, as the world goes, is only in question between equals in power, while the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.” –Thucydides

We have learned that life after the zombie apocalypse is not for the faint of heart. There is no morality, altruism or sympathy. Things that we take for granted, access to fuel, running water and Seinfeld reruns are completely nonexistent.

Life’s purpose is instantly uncluttered and made simple. The complicated human emotions, friendship, empathy and forgiveness become white noise to the lure of survival.

I think that’s why the zombie genre is so appealing. Despite the perceived chaos of the zombie apocalypse, its simplicity is refreshing when compared to our own. We all think we could survive, throw morality to the wind and lead the next phase of human existence. The age old axiom says that when life’s purpose becomes realized, fulfillment can be achieved. Besides, when you’re staring down a midterm, a divorce or unemployment, a few limping monsters aren’t nearly as frightening.

Category 5

My legs are yelling at me. Though they are telepathically sent, oxygen deprived groans, I hear them loud and clear. If this is a Category 5, what is a Category 1?

Don’t worry, I get this question a lot, “Wes, what the hell are you talking about?” It’s 6:50 a.m. and I am biking up Bake Parkway to meet with coworkers for the Metrolink bike car launch.

I’m biking up a 2 mile hill that barely qualifies as a 3% grade and I’m suffering. To provide some context, Category 5 hills were invented recently by casual cyclers who wanted to quantify their weekend triumphs. Professional races only record climbs that are category 1-4. Plus, there is a “hors category”, which means beyond categorization. A 1 percent grade means a road ascends 1 meter (3.28 feet) for every 100 meters (328 feet) it advances. Beyond category climbs ascend at least 1,000 meters (3,280 feet) from start to finish and have an average grade of at least 7% for at least 15 miles.  

Let me translate this information for you. I am a wimp. What is my point? I love experiencing a challenge that upon completion, instantly gives you a new respect for a greater task. Ever try to bake a cake, carve something out of wood or make your own bed? Neither have I, but I bet doing those things would give you a tremendous amount of respect for people who turn these tasks into art on a daily basis.

I have thoroughly enjoyed juxtaposing cycling to everyday life. You may come to a very steep hill, filled with suffering, pain and a strong desire to quit, but rest assured that when you get to the top, the other side will propel you to exponentially faster speeds and the confirmation that the journey was worth the effort.

First Long Ride!

I thought I was just simply receiving a salary and a nine-to-five grind, but since joining OCTA's Marketing department, I have gained something wonderful, a new hobby. Initially I had one goal in mind: don't embarrass yourself at bike events. I just wanted to be hip with the jive, cool to the touch and a bunch of other sayings I don't understand. You see, the cycling community, is an isolated one. They feel that they are disrespected by traffic engineers, motorists and people who don't wear Lycra. Isolated communities often build high fences and  quite frankly, I wanted to do some breaking and entering.

So I got a bike (1980's Univega Gran Rally) and took to the roads. I was a little hesitant at first, but OCTA's Urban Cycling Workshop (shameless plug) helped me feel safer on the roads and more at ease from a mechanical standpoint.

My next step was commuting to work. The 12 mile journey is made more difficult by a few school zones and stretches that lack bikeways. Nevertheless, it's a pretty easy ride, and with a shower on-site, its surprisingly not a logistical nightmare. On a similar note, this is something I would highly recommend. I have been a little lackadaisical on doing it lately, but exercising before and after work makes you feel pretty great all day.

Finally it was time to embark on a team ride. I accompanied (read: slowed down) my coworker Charlie and his team on a 40 mile trip through Santiago Canyon. We left Jax Bike Shop Irvine and headed through Lake Forest to Mission Viejo. From there, we headed up El Toro road to Santiago Canyon. At this point, I began to cramp a bit, lost my balance and took a slight tumble. I had failed rule #1, "Don't embarrass yourself". It was definitely a low point, but I was wearing a lycra suit, so I shouldn't have expected much. Fortunately, it was a minor set back and we were back on the road in 5 minutes.

The most interesting part of the journey was our stop at Cook's Corner. I will set the scene: A crowded patio where old men in leather jackets fawned over $10,000 motorcycles. A crowded patio where old men in lycra fawned over $10,000 bicycles. The juxtaposition of these two groups was hilarious and surreal.

We continued onward, albeit slowly, up the canyon. I really enjoy the varying speeds of cycling. We were suffering up a hill at barely 5 miles per hour. Then at the top, we screamed down at 37 mph! The last half of the journey was mostly downhill and we were back at Jax Bike shop in no time!

I was exhausted, my throat hurt and I sounded like a poorly aging Kermit the frog, but I had survived! It was a great overall experience and I am poised to attempt it again soon.

Bike Snapshot

Had to do this exercise for an upcoming bike workshop
Snapshop of getting your first bike-

"I received my first bike in 3rd grade. It was a black and orange Mongoose BMX bike. It was a single speed bike with pedal breaks. To me, it epitomized freedom and independence. No longer was I reliant on mom and dad for trips to the park, market or school. I had instantly expanded my grasp of the city. I could go the sports parks that once belonged to a strange and far away land. I felt as though I had this machine that provided me with limitless possibilities and also great responsibility. Recently, I received my uncle's old Univega Grand Rally as a gift. While it was in the shop being tuned-up I was overwhelmed with the same feeling of excitement. Receiving the old bike, as with riding it, gave me a calmness and levity that is rare in the fast-paced, twitter filled, energy drink fueled world of today."

San Dieguito Half Marathon

Last week, my lovely girlfriend Annapurna and I headed off to San Diego to run in the San Dieguito Half Marathon. Although I say run, it may be not the right word. Instead, you spend two hours talking to yourself, hoping your knees hold up, and quietly singing the words to whatever is on your iPod. Despite my description it is surprisingly enjoyable. The Rancho Santa Fe area is absolutely beautiful. The area is lined with homes, or more aptly, estates with corrals, tennis courts, iron fences, and stunningly paved driveways. 

The day before the race we ran a bunch of errands. We did however have an awesome lunch at Café 21!  Anna had a ham, apple, and swiss panini

with greens and strawberries I had a delicious spicy monte cristo sandwich with their homemade potato chips. It was a REVELATION (I believe that is what your are supposed to say about good food). But anyways, the place was seriously awesome and I highly recommend it.

Fast forward to race day, we arrived around 7:00 a.m. to San Dieguito Park. The place was already popping with activity and the first twinge of nerves began to build. We made our way down a ridiculous dirt hill that wound back and forth. I couldn’t help wonder who was going to drag me back up after the race. After an hour of pre-race warm-up, which mainly involved trying to huddle together in the sun, we were ready to race! As the gun sounded it was remarkable to see the impulse of nearly every runner to immediately manipulate an electronic device rather than start running. The first mile Anna and I ran together, but as we neared the first turn, we parted ways. During the Long Beach Marathon, we ran together longer, but one of my first few songs was Eye of The Tiger, so I couldn’t contain myself.

1 hour and 52 minutes later…

To make a long story short, we finished the race. Although I felt good throughout, as I was given my medal I started to feel a bit dehydrated. The feeling was similar to waking up on the floor in a frat house. I had a bad headache, my eyes felt sunken into the back of my head, and after I started eating a banana my neck began to cramp. In hindsight, I probably should have asked for an IV from the medical staff foreshadowing), but I figured a few bananas would do the trick.

We get home Annapurna’s house and the most exciting crime-detective-drama case was unfolding outside of her house. There were cop cars everywhere! A guy had stolen a car, driven it nearly off a canyon cliff, and ran down into the canyon to evade the police. Rather than solve the case myself, I felt like I should probably lie down.

After a nap, a little lunch and a ton of water, it was dinner time. It was no ordinary dinner mind you; it was Valentine’s Day eve! We went to Sea Rocket Bistro and although I didn’t eat too much, it was great. We ordered a variety of different tapas, clams, cheese, meatballs, meats.

We left the restaurant and I still wasn’t feeling great. We get back to her house and in two seconds BAM I throw-up everything! I will save you the graphic details, but at midnight on Sunday, I was just checking out of the hospital. Thankfully, I had Annapurna, her family, and my family to come hang out and make sure I was ok. Once I had an IV in me, I felt a lot better. There were no serious problems and I was told to hydrate better, what a concept. In the end, Anna and I are retiring for a while with the half-marathons and in search of a new hobby. Any suggestions?

“Whoever controls the media controls the mind”

Informed citizenry is an essential component of democracy. If the people are truly in the driver’s seat of the American political machine, naturally, you hope they have their license. In America, educating democratic citizens on political issues makes them more capable of electing representatives who will serve their interests. Given its importance, is it working?

American media is a for-profit industry, where large organizations compete for your readership, viewership, and support. More accurately, these large media corporations are more focused on selling advertising than unbiased news coverage.

This for-profit model is not without drawbacks.  Corporations have learned that the news is often boring. As a result, they have discovered that entertainment is the true source of profit. Your modern “political” news source is heavily focused on political scandal, outrageous sound bites, and extremely polarized viewpoints.

Authoritarian regimes on the other hand, have state run media, which means that all news is filtered through state bureaucracy. As a result, there is no watchdog searching for government corruption or wasteful spending. The citizens of this country are subject to the indoctrination of their government.  Often times, a political voice, one that disagrees with the ruling party, goes unheard.

Now the question must be asked, are we informed as citizens or is our media failing us? Although it’s quite obvious that America does not have the most informed citizenry, I don’t think we are destined for peril quite yet, but the consolidation of news media is not helping. If the media is controlled by fewer and fewer sources, fewer and fewer people are having an influence on our political minds.

How can we be saved by news? News is everywhere! You can read 10 regional newspapers, watch local, national, and international news on 10 channels, and scrounge the web for smaller news sources. But, where do you go for solid information? Facts and analysis on one channel may be are extremely different from another. One source paints a candidate as the villain, while the other hails him as a hero. 

The invention of the internet has changed the way news media is delivered, hopefully for the better. People have access to media voices that they may have never heard. This diversity of news media, which can reverse or halt a trend of consolidation, seems to be a great push for democracy. As long as fresh voices are being injected into a realm of media, all sides of the political argument can be waged, leaving it up to the voter to decide

Go Greek

All realms of politics begin with a question. Here is one that I would like to explore: how do babies learn to speak? Babies learn to speak by taking in information, recognizing the patterns within them, like their own name or the sound of the mother’s voice, and then adapting to those sounds. Eventually, they understand the complex patterns and intricacies of their native language and begin formulating their own speech. Most importantly, babies come into the world with the ability to learn any language in the world, only their environment dictates which one they take up.

At this point, I expect you to be thinking, what the hell are you talking about? Political socialization, or how we form our political views, works in the same way. Our political views are indoctrinated into our minds by the world around us. We take in this information from a number of sources, our family, our school, the media, and our religion. We naturally become deeply ingrained in our political beliefs. There is a reason you are advised against arguing politics with people, you are unlikely to find much success.

Why then, do people get so mad when talking politics? In my view, just as you don’t have much influence over the language you speak, your favorite foods, and your sexual preference, you don’t really have too much control of your political beliefs. Agree to disagree becomes the only possible solution. Instead, the rhetoric turns derogatory and no resolution is made.

Instead, go Greek! By that I mean be like Plato, who always tried to see understand things from the opposite point of view. So before you go crazy in your next political argument, remember to go Greek.