Picture perseverance.  What do you see?  Is it Helen Keller graduating from Radcliffe, or Sir Edmund Hillary summiting Everest?  When I was young, I witnessed someone’s perseverance first-hand which forever shaped my perception of the concept.  In fact, it literally saved my life.  This will be the first time I tell this story.

I was a curious, carefree, skinny little dreamer.  My passion for painting, swimming, and riding bikes, together with a loving family, brought a childhood most would envy… until everything changed.  

Over several months, I mysteriously became “swollen.”  I was a big eater, but so was my brother, and he was built like a spaghetti noodle.  I then became increasingly exhausted and even lost my will to paint.  

Lab tests revealed low plasma protein which caused fluid to leak from my blood vessels and into my tissues.  My hemoglobin dropped so low that it diminished the ability of my red blood cells to carry oxygen.  

So, I was sent to a hematologist who ordered me to eat plenty of protein while he analyzed my situation.  It was eggs with breakfast, chicken with lunch, and beef with dinner. 

Unfortunately, a week into my protein extravaganza, I lost consciousness and crashed while riding my bike.  I was rushed to the hospital and subsequently medevaced to a trauma center where I remained in a coma.  One of my clotting factors, also a protein, was so low that it facilitated a brain bleed.  Thankfully, after several days of transfusions, I woke up surprisingly normal. 

Throughout the next year, my condition declined, bringing multiple emergencies, surgeries, and extended hospitalizations.

But, wait!  This story is not about me.

During this time, something primal awakened within my mother Kim.  Most humans have limits to the lengths they will go before they frustrate, fatigue, and become hopeless.  Even though our lives had imploded, and the bills were bankrupting us, Kim took it upon herself to solve the problem.  For nearly a year, she only slept a couple of hours each day.  She tirelessly sought experts and incessantly studied.  She encountered endless setbacks and dead ends yet refused to be stumped.  There was no distance she wouldn’t travel.  No stone was left unturned.  She even purchased immunology and hematology textbooks which she and my father learned as new languages.   

When I was home, I spent countless nights listless on her pillow resting next to my father.  I remember listening to the clicks of her keyboard and mouse.  For her, it was a race against the clock.  For me, the clicks were her calming lullaby singing, I will figure this out… You will be okay… We will be okay.

We were a year into the ordeal when the clicking abruptly stopped.  Mom sprang from her desk and yanked my father from bed.  They then feverishly rifled through piles of files, notes, and books as if they had just broken a cold case.

By morning, she had us boarding a flight to meet with a team of specialists.  Her discovery was confirmed.  Epstein Barr, the insidious virus which commonly infects the lymph system, had secretly damaged my duodenum.  Ironically, all the animal proteins I had been devouring were leaking into my bloodstream, sparking an immunological cascade of chaos.

From that point forward, my treatment became surprisingly simple.  I just ate fruits and veggies.  I have not had another bite of eggs, chicken, pork, or beef since.

Eventually, my gut healed, and my blood levels returned to normal.  Mom’s grit took me from balancing on a tightrope back to balancing on my bike.  Sure, I have some scars to show for it, but I also gained benefits.  Most importantly…she helped me walk away.  Hospital life told many sad stories of kids who were not so lucky.

Confucius once said, “The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.”  I now attack life with ambitious aspirations and plan to use the power of Mom’s perseverance to help others.  You never know, maybe I could save a life.

Some say we are only born once, but that night, after a year in labor, my mother gave birth to me for a second time. The memory of her relentless drive is forever seared into my being.  I have since had the pleasure of witnessing her resolve on more recent endeavors.   I have also come to realize her tenacity resides deep within me.  I take comfort in knowing that dirty work and setbacks are the stepping-stones to perseverance.