Glorious Games in Pittsburgh! Day 1 and Day 2, 7-10 and 7-11-08
Dear Friends,
Once again, I appreciate you checking this blog to see if we’ve written. You are gently encouraging me to document my everyday experiences so that I do not forget the significance of each moment. There are many powerful moments to share from the last few days.
Today I safely returned from Pittsburgh, PA alone, while Andrew flew to a business trip and Ana and Trent continued on vacation in Washington DC. I am sitting on my couch, struggling to find the words to explain the depth of my experiences over the last few days.
In a nutshell, Pittsburgh was beyond our dreams. Where do I start? Everyone was healthy and stayed that way during the Games. My family was all together except for my brother (I hope he comes some day). Ana and I performed our best, and the competition was less intense this year, resulting in some reward for both of us. Everyday was sunny and warm, but not too warm. There was some traffic/construction but overall Pittsburgh was easy to get around. At the Transplant Games all kinds of people came up to us and greeted us, many whom we remembered from prior years and some whom our prograf brains have kept us from remembering:). People were so friendly to us! Maybe this had to do with the fact that we were in the 2006 Transplant Games video and put on a poster. Actually the same shot of Ana and me hugging was placed on a huge banner and also on the cover of the program. When I first saw that, I thought, “Thank God Ana lived.” If she had died last year, I couldn’t even bear to look at that picture. My point is that perhaps people knew us because of that shot. Also, we are two of a handful of Asian athletes so we are easy to identify. But overall, we were welcomed into this large yet intimate crowd like family. This is Ana’s 4th Games and my 3rd, so we have the pleasure of building stronger friendships each returning year. I am so grateful for the connections we have made at the Games.
Okay, let me jump back a bit. Andrew and I arrived in Pittsburgh late on Wednesday night, 7/9, and stayed at the local Days Inn. We had a late night meal at Applebee’s which, like the hotel room, left much to be desired. The next morning we drove to Erie, PA., where Andrew spent one year of high school after his parents moved to Edinboro during his high school years. We met his influential 11th grade teacher Suzanne, who treated us to a delicious and filling meal in her cozy home. Andrew reminisced about transcendentalism and his life, and I got to know this very inspirational teacher who truly lives…. (I mean, anyone who had ridden a Harley across the country and has her own jewelry business takes life by the horns). After this meal, we drove onward to the town where Emmett, Andrew’s best friend from his high school year, lives. We passed the run down factories in Erie and it all reminded me of the movie “Roger and Me” and the demise of American manufacturing. We checked into a simple motel and then met Emmett and his sweet Japanese wife and their half-Japanese girls. We were treated to a delicious tonkatsu dinner while Andrew and Emmett caught up on 19 years. There are very few Japanese in Erie and I was shocked to hear that all the Japanese food we were eating was shipped by Emmett’s in-laws in Japan! While it was delicious nonetheless, I could never live in a place like that…
Anyway, I truly enjoyed the warm conversation. A sign that Andrew and I are meant to be because his genuine, conscientious friends who reflect on life and are living the best lives they can are like the friends I’d like to have. After dinner, Andrew, Emmett and I took a walk along Lake Erie and watched the sun set late through the cloudy sky. Smokestacks in the distance added to the grey clouds, and my eyes gazed out at the vast ocean-like water of Lake Erie. We hummed Gordon Lightfoot’s “Wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald.”
The next day, Friday, 7/11, Andrew and I got up early and drove 140 miles back to Pittsburgh. We checked into the Hilton and gathered some goodies to bring to set up our booth at the Transplant Games EXPO. Ana and Trents’ flights were apparently severely delayed (bad weater in Chicago) so they arrived at 4am instead of 10pm the night before. While Ana slept, I met with Tiffany Christensen, author of “Sick Girl Speaks,” (www.sickgirlspeaks.com) and set up our “Creative Expression and Transplantation” Booth. We set up photos from Michelle Compton’s “The Breathing Room” exhibit (www.thebreathingroom.org) and put out our book and flyers. While we weren’t allowed to sell our book, we welcomed this opportunity for publicity at the Transplant Games. Tiffany was such a great sport and took charge of the booth while Ana and I fulfilled all of our Team Nor Cal commitments.
We left Tiffany and rushed to Carnegie Mellon University for swim practice. It was a nice 9-foot deep indoor pool, not too cold but somewhat claustrophobic in the hot greenhouse-like glass building. I had to calm myself even while practicing. We met up with Lara, our dear lung transplant CF friend from Stanford. She hadn’t been in a pool in 7 years, and not since her transplant. We were going to coach her on backstroke for the swim relay. She was on IVs and removed her port needle just for practice. Now that’s dedication! She wore my swim cap and goggles and floundered about in the pool. Luckily for all of us, it was a yard pool. Her first 25 yards were great but then she was so winded she had to rest. On her way back she zigzagged across from one edge of the lane line to another and Ana and I glanced at each other with concern. We barked instructions to this poor woman who was pressured by the competitive Stenzel twins and probably didn’t have the heart to say no, she didn’t want to swim the relay. But Lara was such a good sport. In several laps with changes in her technique, she improved drastically and was able to swim 50 yards with a good pace. We felt to grateful to all be swimming together, after all the tough CF and transplant roads we had walked along together. I still remember Lara at her first transplant support group, 1 1/2 years before my transplant, and I remember her in ICU. She remembers the support group where I was end stage and there was little hope. And now, we were swimming together! Ana and I met our fellow swimmers from years past, who intimidated us with their strength but we were all warm and supportive. That is good sportsmanship. Best of all, we swam with Laurie S. from CTDN, a wonderful dream.
After swim practice, we rushed to our Team Nor Cal dinner and met up with all of our enthusiastic teammates, our families, and all of our friends. It was so exciting to finally be here. We ate like Americans- fried mozarella sticks, chicken tenders, pretzels, salad (!), shrimp alfredo and Team Nor Cal white cake. What is wrong with American food!!!?? It was lard-loading rather than carbo-loading. My stomach paid the price that night.
The following morning, 7/12, we woke early to join Team Nor Cal for our team photo. We then toured the EXPO and picked up free samples of water bottles, fans, chapstick, sticky pads, bags, frisbees, seat cushions, etc., all adorned with medication branding and all thanks to the American medical industrial complex! I am so glad the makers of my medications sponsor the Games, but I’d gladly give up my branded frisbee for a cheaper copay… Anyway, I joined Tiffany to man our booth and welcomed many friends who came by: Paul F., from USACFA, Joe S., and his wife, who is one of the two twins from Georgia who both had heart transplants, Kim J., our dear online friend, fellow teammates, our donor family friends from prior Transplant Games, etc. So many familiar faces and so much love among these people from all over the country! In the chaos of the EXPO, it was so comforting to glance over and see Tiffany’s enthusiastic smile next to me. We were in this together.
Around noon, Ana and I rushed off to the pool to swim the 100 yard Individual Medley. We barely got there in time because they re-arranged the times of the races. The Byrnes family was not informed and we swam before they got there! We basically arrived, changed, jumped into the practice pool and then it was time to compete. Oh, our nerves were so high! I had eaten a caffeine-filled snickers bar and power gel, but could not eat lunch because my stomach was nauseous from nerves. Ana and I were placed in adjoining lanes, and climbed the diving blocks. At that time I looked up to the ceiling and thanked God and Xavier for this opportunity; the outcome of my race was up to them and only them. It was a moment of surrender.
We heard the dreaded loudspeaker, “Take your mark” and then the buzzer. I wasn’t sure if it was a false start so I delayed jumping in for a split second. When I saw everyone else enter the water, I kicked off. Woops. Then my out of body experience started. All the technique and form goes out the window; even the breathing. All I know is that I moved as fast as I could and focused on getting to the end of the pool and back. Fly. Back. Breast (where I moved ahead). Free. Before I knew it, the race was over. My muscles didn’t burn, but to say I breathed heavily is a gross understatement. I saw Ana swimming freestyle in the lane next to me and I started screaming. She was coming!!!! She charged through the water, not the fastest but darn fast for someone who, one year earlier, could hardly move. When she reached the end I held my hand out and she embraced it. We did it. We swam the IM for the first time, together. God, we are lucky.
After the rest of the age groups and men completed the 100 IM, it was time for the 400meter. Since this was a yard pool, they changed it to 500 yards. That is TWENTY laps! Not 16 laps but 20! And Ana masochistically signed up for that. She dove in, still tired from the IM, and swam strong at a steady pace the entire time. I was amazed. She had great form and didn’t hesitate at the turns. She swam with the same strength and determination she had that got her through her second transplant. She completed it around 11 minutes. Not bad!!!! I screamed til I was hoarse.
Some men had a really hard time. Some had to turn on their backs and paddle. One man hung to the lane line. The harder the effort, the more the crowd cheered. Some men stopped at each lap to catch their breath. For one man, a heart recipient, after the first two laps it seemed he was going to pass out, or quit, or both. But after a significant pause, he would get back on his back and keep going. One lap after another he would stop, recover and continue. The crowd roared and cheered at each lap, yells of “Go, go, go!” and “Keep going!” gave him the energy to remain bouyant. This man was pale white and I was worried for him. It took him 20 minutes to swim 500 yards. Later he explained that his heart rate wouldn’t increase despite his muscle movements; that is the disadvantage of heart recipients. But, HE DID IT. His wife and kids were in tears when he finished and stumbled out of the pool. This was the greatest example of determination and inability to quit that I’ve witnessed this year at the Games. His drive made me feel like I could push through any challenge that comes ahead.
After the 500 races was the award ceremony. I was very blessed to receive a silver medal in the IM. I was content; all I wanted was one medal in these Games.
I don’t mean to be graffic here, but let me share a beautiful moment in the ladies locker room. Women of all ages, shapes and sizes are gabbing about their performance and their satisfaction at completing their races. They share their surgery histories- the what organ/when questions are answered along with statements of amazement and gratitude. Best of all, we all walk around bearing our scars without any embarrassment. The size of the scars reminds us who among us are the walking miracles; we all are but some are more than others. There is a freedom here I don’t have anywhere else. These scars are our badges of courage.
We rushed to a quick dinner at Panera; my poor family was starving without lunch all day. They weren’t fueled by adrenalin like I was. We then rushed to the Opening Ceremony at the Convention Center. Yes, it is strange to have some swimming events BEFORE the official opening ceremonies, but that just happens each year because of scheduling….
All athletes lined up backstage in our team t-shirts/uniforms. It was great to see lung recipients Lara, Stacey and Tom M. holding the Team Nor Cal banner. We were all together at the Games! What a celebration! As we entered the stage, Ana and I blew bubbles and cheered. I walked in the back of the group so all the new people could have a chance for the grand entrance. I walked with the ranks of Nancy L., Tom G., Paul Y., all the old-time Team Nor Cal athletes who paved the way for Ana and me at the Games. What an honor at my third Games, to join the ‘old timers’.
The Opening Ceremony consisted of this procession of each team, then the moving entrance of hundreds of living and deceased donor families carrying donor quilts. After the procession, there were speeches and talented musician organ recipients who sang. There was the carrying of the Games torch by last time’s “Athletes of the Year” and the attempted lighting of the actual torch, which didn’t work. The Opening ceremony ended with the recitation of the Athlete’s Oath for good sportsmanship and with the the four powerful words, “Let the Games Begin!”
I returned to my hotel room later than desired, still wired on caffeine. With my dad’s snoring and my nerves for the next day full of activity, I downed 10mg of ambien and prayed for a good night’s sleep. I hadn’t slept well in days. The next day was going to be my hardest.
I will write more tomorrow. I am tired and it’s 1:30am EST now. Good night for now. Thank you for re-living these days with me. I wish you were there with us at the Games. Thank you for your support.
Have a great Friday.
Love, Isa