When I was starting out as a basketball coach, I went to hear coaching legend John Wooden speak, and he said, “a good coach can change a game. A great coach can change a life.” Hearing this, I knew I found my calling.
I spent over 40 years as a high school coach and teacher and am grateful for the time I got to spend with my children, who attended the school where I taught, as well as with players and students who became like my extended family. When you do something every day for that long, you get into a routine, but I learned the hard way that nothing in life is guaranteed. Almost eight years ago, I was teaching a class and the entire right side of my face and body went numb. My daughter – who happened to be a student in that class – noticed something wasn’t right and texted the school nurse. When class was over the nurse was waiting for me and took my blood pressure. One look at the results and she recommended I go to the emergency room immediately.
In the ER, the doctor on call wasn’t sure what was wrong with me but had a hard time getting a vial of my blood for a test because it was so thick. He told me that there was a hematologist in the hospital who was teaching about myeloproliferative neoplasms (MPNs), a group of rare, chronic blood cancers, and asked if I’d like to see him. Before I could think twice, my wife shouted “yes” loud enough for the both of us. After running blood tests, the doctor diagnosed me with polycythemia vera (PV), which is a type of MPN.
You would think a diagnosis like that would have slowed me down. It didn’t. Because, due to my health, I had missed the basketball game that would have been my 500th win as a coach, I was determined to attend Senior Day, an important milestone for any coach which marks the last home game of the season. I went – against the wishes of my family and doctors – but promised I wouldn’t coach. However, for those who haven’t coached before, trust me when I say it is nearly impossible to watch your team play from the sidelines and not jump in and start coaching, which is exactly what I did. Being back on the court that night was an amazing feeling, which made it easy to miss the looks of concern on the faces of my family.
The next day, the right side of my face and body went completely numb again. This was a wakeup call for me, and I knew I had to start listening to my family and my doctor.
Creating a New Game Plan
I made my health my number one priority and began to advocate for myself in any way I could. I’ve also been extremely lucky to have the support from my family, including my daughter who was in the classroom on the day that led to my diagnosis, and is now a nurse. Thanks to her, I’m focused on maintaining a healthy lifestyle and have someone to help me at my doctor appointments. Prioritizing my health allowed me to coach for an additional eight years following my PV diagnosis. But in 2019, things changed again.
I was seeing my doctor regularly and still working as a coach and teacher – but managing my PV became another full-time job. I knew that in order to continue to focus on my health, I had to step away from coaching and teaching. It was a tough decision; however, I knew I had to rest and address my health issues to make a real change. The same day I announced I would retire after my 30th season, I suffered a heart attack and was diagnosed with pneumonia. I felt a sensation of loss as it dawned on me that I would be ending my coaching career sooner than expected.
I felt as if my whole life and career were taken away, and PV became my identity. I felt alone, even though I was surrounded with support from my family and friends. However, I was contacted by a gentleman who had been living with PV for years and was familiar with my PV story. Being able to speak with someone who understood how I felt and what I was going through made me realize that although I had a new challenge to face, I shouldn’t give up on my future or lose myself to PV. Ever since then, the identity of “PV Patient” faded, and I reclaimed my identity as a dad, son, teacher, and coach.
One of the most important things I learned from my diagnosis is to be in tune with your body and how you feel. Before being diagnosed, I experienced migraines, extreme fatigue and night sweats, but didn’t acknowledge the symptoms as anything other than stress. If your body is telling you something, listen to it and take action. I also continue to see my doctor, who is an MPN specialist, on a regular basis to manage my health and PV.
Being diagnosed with PV wasn’t part of my game plan, but similar to coaching, when something unexpected happens you can’t just throw in the towel. You have to take a breath, acknowledge the challenge, and even if you have to adjust your plan, keep moving forward. By telling my story, I hope to help other patients understand that they are more than their disease and a diagnosis doesn’t define them.