You don’t have to be fighting a life threatening illness to be celebrating the end of a season that packed way too much wind, water, snow and cold. As someone who has lost a significant amount of his normal body weight, however, I find it particularly sweet. Even though I have regained close to half of what I had lost since the onset of ALS, inactivity from paralysis keeps me extremely vulnerable to the cold. My body doesn’t start to feel warm until the thermometer reaches at least 75 degrees. Venturing outdoors during the colder weather requires so much warm clothing that I can barely exercise what little physical mobility I have. The combination of the exposure and reduced independence can put quite a damper on my incentive to leave the house.

Gazing through my bedroom window in recent mornings, while basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays and studying the greening of the grass and the formation of the trees’ new buds, the rebirth that is spring surges inside of me. I look forward with the anticipation and excitement of a circus bound child to strolls around the block with my wife, visits with friends and neighbors, shopping excursions, dining out, trips to parks, and other outings. I especially look forward to testing the extent of the regained strength in my right hand for driving my wheelchair. During a recent walk with my aide, on one of the first days to break into the mid-sixties, my hand lasted far longer than I expected before experiencing fatigue. This leaves me very excited about the prospects for my increased level of activity this spring and summer.

Among the things that make living with ALS difficult is the constant bombardment by external reminders of the limitations it can impose. The bone-chilling feel of temperatures that used to seem mild reminds me of the frailty of my body. Inabilities to scratch an itch or grasp a pencil are among the constant reminders of the mobility ALS has stolen. Perhaps worst of all, is the loss of dignity and disrespect that can be suffered at the hands of well-meaning strangers who assume how badly you feel and behave out of pity based on the projection of their own fears of what it would be like to be in your place.

What facing such situations has taught me, as did the challenges of sleeping with ALS, is the importance of choosing how to focus my attention. Making conscious choices about how to view my circumstances has helped me cope with or prevent the stress of health issues, financial problems, interpersonal challenges, and other crises. Living with ALS has taught me that we human beings have tremendous power to direct our thoughts, and that our thoughts in turn have tremendous influence on our mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being. So when I am cold, I work to focus my thoughts on my to-do list for the day. Instead of lamenting over my inability to deal with an itch or handle a pencil, I dwell on the gratitude felt over my continuing ability to steer my wheel chair. Rather than take umbrage over other’s misguided displays of compassion, I consider their intensions, and seek to ease their discomfort. Taking the time to appreciate the beauty around me is just one of the important, yet simple, practices that keep my attention positively focused. Thank God for Spring, which makes it so much easier to apply.

The list of techniques and remedies I have tried over the past 8 years is enormous. That is one of the reasons I wrote From Nightmares to Miracles. A person afflicted with a medically incurable illness can burn through a considerable amount of time, money, and energy trying to find alternative approaches that work. These are three vital resources that most people with ALS (PALS) don’t have in abundant supply. In the book, I discuss dozens of approaches including herbal remedies, vitamins, homeopathic treatment, electronic and frequency devices, spiritual healing techniques, exercise, diet, and more. I explain what worked for me, what didn’t, how I arrived at my current protocol, and why I believe that what I have learned has implications far beyond recoverin from ALS. While the same approach may not work for everyone, I believe there are elements of the practices I follow that have universal application.

It would probably help to alleviate some healthy skepticism by providing some evidence for my claims. So, let me give you some. Late 2006, was a huge turning point for me. My weight had dropped to a mere 99 lbs. This was barely more than half of my pre-ALS weight. My fairly athletic, 5’11’’ frame typically weighed in at about 185 lbs. prior to onset of the disease. By the end of 2006, my 99 lb., wheelchair- bound presence resembled that of someone who had barely survived Auschwitz. Every rib in my torso protruded though my skin. My arms had grown so weak that they required rest after two hours of moving a computer mouse. My skin was pale and dry, requiring lotion on a daily basis to avoid breakdown. Fatigue made afternoon naps necessary to get through the day. Restlessness in my legs from poor circulation made sleeping for more than two hours at a time a rare occurrence. Chronic joint and muscle stiffness and cramping interfered with sleep, and caused excruciating pain when being lifted out of bed in the morning.

Today, I weigh 138 lbs. Health practitioners are constantly amazed by the color and tone quality of my skin, and the complete absence of bed sores. Waking up during the night rarely occurs more than once to relieve my bladder. I rarely need a nap, and typically spend five to six hours a day at the computer, stopping for other activities vs. fatigue. Chronic pain is absent from my life.

All of the health care practitioners who see me on a regular basis find these changes astounding. Weight gain for someone in the advanced stages of ALS is extremely rare, as are the absence of bed sores for someone bound to a wheelchair. It is also quite common for someone with ALS or any life-threatening illness to suffer bouts of depression. I can assure you that my current state of mind is anything but depressed.

So by now, I would hope that this information has raised interest in your minds about how these changes have been achieved. In my next entry, I will begin to share what has worked for me in beating back the ravages of ALS, and handling life’s twists and turns with greater poise, patience, confidence and effectiveness. Stay tuned!