Author: Chris Anselmo

No Break!

On By Chris AnselmoIn Through My Eyes1 Comment

I wanted to let you all know that my foot, thankfully, is NOT broken! Getting x-rays on my foot was a bit unnerving however. I hope I don’t have to go back any time soon.

They weren’t clear if it was a strain or sprain but they are thinking it was a bad strain, which I’ll take given the circumstances. Still quite sore, especially when it rubs up against my leg brace, but I at least feel some improvement today.

To thank my bag of butternut squash for its emergency service as an ice pack, I will eat it with dinner tonight. After all, that’s the dream of any bag of vegetables, right?

Troubled Waters

On By Chris AnselmoIn Through My Eyes6 Comments

I don’t usually write after a disease-related traumatic event but today is different. I’m writing now because I need to distract myself, and quite honestly I don’t know what else to do.

I stumbled this morning when I looked out my window at construction taking place on my building’s exterior. It was early, I was exhausted, and I wanted to see if I should turn on my air conditioner to drown out the noise. As I was walking back to bed I bumped into a table, stumbled, and twisted my left foot.

I felt a shooting pain like I’ve never felt before. I don’t take proper steps, since my legs and calf muscles are so weak that my legs bow out. One little bump from a table and it is enough to cause my foot to roll over. The pain is concentrated below my pinky toe, on the foot itself. It feels like it is on a joint of some sort, or underneath, or on top, who knows. This is a new pain for me, and to try and isolate exactly where it hurts would only lead to more discomfort.

I can deal with the pain, but what scares me is what the underlying pain will mean to my future. Tomorrow morning I go for x-rays. Is it a sprain? A small fracture? I have no idea. My foot, six hours later, still hurts a lot, although the pain has been dulled by my trusty frozen bag of butternut squash.

IMG_1379
Ugh.

I hope and pray that it is just a sprain, and not a break. I cannot afford to be off my feet for any length of time, or even in a walking boot for that matter. I don’t have the strength or stability to walk in a boot. If I am stuck in a seated position, I will get weaker even faster, which is especially concerning since I have gotten noticeably weaker in just the last few months. To speed up the weakening process means that my walking days are numbered.

As I sit propped up in bed, surrounded by phones, remotes and pillows, I am thinking about what comes next. I try not to dwell on the future, partly because it is a scary place but also because there is so much unknown. As my friend Rhamy cheerfully likes to say when I worry about what lies ahead, “Hey, you could always get hit by a bus.” With that uplifting piece of advice in mind, I try to live in the present as much as possible. I accept my situation, but this is still a scary world I live in and that I will never get used to.

I’ve learned that it’s okay to be afraid – perfectly normal – but now, more than ever, I must put on the face of resilience. Every time I share my story with audiences I talk about what has helped me overcome adversity when times get tough, and I must take my own advice to heart right now. I don’t know if that gives me more credibility or less to talk on the subject, but that isn’t my concern at the moment. All I care about right now is trying to stay afloat on an angry sea of adversity, fearful that the anchor I threw over the edge of the boat won’t find the bottom in time.

I don’t know what tomorrow will reveal. I am hopeful that it is just a sprain. But if it is more than that – a fracture, no matter how small – this could be the beginning of the end of my time walking. It is a future that will come at some point, but I hope that time isn’t now.

My foot is starting to get wet. My butternut squash is beginning to leak so it looks like it is time to wrap up this post. I’ll keep you all updated. Thoughts, prayers, whatever you like to give to others, are welcome right now. I’ll take whatever help I can get.

Unlike my leaky bag of squash, I’m not ready to give up. Hopefully my body feels the same way.

Walking Together

On By Chris AnselmoIn The Adversity Playbook, Through My Eyes4 Comments

 

The greatest outcome from sharing my story with the world has been the opportunity to help others. Since I finally opened up about my condition four years ago, my life has taken a turn for the better. Through writing and speaking about my patient story, I’ve had many wonderful people come into my life, from high school classmates I’ve reconnected with to complete strangers who were moved to contact me in some way. I am not terribly comfortable as the center of attention, but I do it because I believe that I am part of something much larger than myself.

To be honest, I don’t consider my story to be more inspirational than anyone else’s. I’ve said that many times before. Have I dealt with a lot? Absolutely, and I won’t sell myself short there. But at the same time, I am not the only one who has persevered in this world. I don’t have the market for inspiration covered, as I know of countless others who have dealt with even greater burdens. They are the people I turn to when I need to be picked up after a tough day.

Rather, what sharing my journey has shown me is that there is a great unmet need in society for impactful stories. Everyone these days is struggling with something, and far too many suffer silently. They walk the lonely road that I stumbled down years ago. People need to be reminded that they are strong enough to get through whatever it is that gets them down, and the best way to accomplish this is to hear the stories of others. People need to hear the good and the bad, the successes and failures. Meaningful, authentic stories connect with people on an emotional level like no other story can.

The need is great. I don’t say that as an exaggeration or as an indictment on society; it’s my observation from firsthand experience. Everyone is struggling with something. This is a favorite phrase of mine. My disease has (thankfully) made me more empathetic, to the point where I can identify easily when someone is having a tough time. It is sort of like my sixth sense.

Lately I have been receiving around 1-2 emails and messages per month from complete strangers. They usually ask me for advice or thank me for sharing my story. I am flattered, sure, but more than anything I want to help each person. Sometimes I have answers, sometimes I don’t. But if I don’t, I try to at least steer them in the right direction. I don’t want anyone to encounter me and not have their situation improve in some way.

I’ve thought a lot recently about how I can help people on a greater scale. For everyone that reaches out to me, I wonder how many others read or hear my story but are hesitant to reach out. I wonder even more how many people out there would benefit from hearing anyone’s story, let alone my own.

I realize that I can do a better job of communicating on here what has helped me on my journey these last few years. As a result, I am going to write about, in a series of posts, various pieces of advice. Each post will cover a specific topic that I will briefly outline below. You can find these posts under my new column heading, “The Adversity Playbook”. My hope is that, for anyone who stumbles across my website, they can use my experience as a starting point on their journey. Bumpy roads don’t have to be lonely roads.

I am not an oracle who has all the answers. I have made my mistakes along the way, and there are some days I go against this very advice I am about to tell because I am tired, stubborn, and/or frustrated. In short, I’m human.

I make this list as a jumping off point. It is only meant to scratch the surface of what I hope to write about in future posts.

Without further ado:

  1. Don’t go at it alone!

I can’t emphasize this enough – life is not meant to be lived in isolation, especially when you are going through a tough time. It is natural to feel isolated when the world around you cannot relate to your situation, especially if it is a disease. But the sooner you recognize that you can’t go at it alone, and more importantly, that you are not supposed to go at it alone, it changes everything. I am living proof of that. I wouldn’t be where I am at today if I didn’t reach out to my family, friends and coworkers and humbly admit I couldn’t handle my situation anymore. I needed a helping hand, and I got hundreds of them in return.

Asking for help is not easy, but it is crucial. Trust me.

 

  1. Seek out others who are going through a similar ordeal

Another helpful piece of advice is to seek out others who are going through something similar to what you are dealing with. If you Google the issue – whether it’s a disease, a failure, a setback, whatever it is – you will undoubtedly find someone who has gone through it or who understands how you feel. It builds off the first point – community is essential. If you have a disease, rather than shut yourself in (which is the natural human reaction), seek out others who can understand what you are dealing with. Join a Facebook group, or an organization whose mission is to find a cure or provide services and support. It seems intuitive, but I know of many people who don’t do this, and it makes me sad.

 

  1. Don’t be afraid to fail

I am no longer afraid of failure, which is a good thing because I’ve encountered it over and over and over again, especially this year on my job search. I can stomach it because I have come to realize that anything worthwhile in life requires risk, and nothing worthwhile is given to you on the first try. If you fail 99 times out of 100, the one time that you succeed outshines the other 99 failures.

This notion has sustained me every time I fall. I am past the point where I can pick myself back up on my own. Every fall is a reminder that my body is failing me. But every time I end up back on my feet, and I take my first step on solid ground, I realize how worth it it is to get back up.

 

  1. Share your story!

When you get through the difficult times – and you will – share your story with others. When I finally opened up about my journey and wrote my first article – a piece for the Jain Foundation (whose mission is to find a cure for my disease) – a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Sharing your story will empower you and give you confidence, and just as importantly, it will help others. It doesn’t take much. Trust me, your story is not boring, and it will have an impact. Any small impact, even if it brings a smile to one person’s face, makes it worth it.

Keep in mind, the moment you overcome your difficulties, someone is experiencing that hardship for the very first time, and they don’t know where to turn. You can be that beacon of light for someone else, as only you can.

_________________________________________

If you have any questions about any topic on here, or anything that is not covered, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me, chrisanselmo@gmail.com.

Rare Disease Day

On By Chris AnselmoIn The Reluctant Traveler1 Comment

What a day.

Last Monday – February 29th – was Rare Disease Day around the world. The day exists to raise awareness about rare diseases and the urgent need for increased funding in order to bring about treatments. Just as important, the day celebrates patients like myself who are living with a rare disease, and helps to reinforce how we are part of a much larger community. According to Global Genes, there are approximately 350 million people around the world living with a rare disease, which shows that collectively, we are anything but rare!

I had the honor of speaking at the Massachusetts State House as part of their ceremony to commemorate Rare Disease Day. I was actually supposed to speak at this event last year, but, as I’m sure you all remember so fondly, it was a terrible, terrible winter. I simply could not make it downtown with all the snow on the ground. Fortunately I was invited back this year, and I gladly accepted. Even better, there was no snow to be found.

I had not been to the State House in many years, and had never been in the Great Room – a large, open room on the second floor with high ceilings and natural light shining through the roof. It was 65 and sunny out, so there was plenty of sunshine in the room, which set the mood for the uplifting ceremony.

I was the third of four patients to speak, after opening remarks from the emcee and a state representative. There were over 450 people registered for the event, and almost all of them showed up, as all the seats were full and the back area was standing-room only.

When I got up on stage I was a little nervous, but then I calmed down and started talking. I reminded myself that I had given this talk many times before. I could have used notes but decided not to. For some reason I am more comfortable when I memorize what I am going to say rather than referring to notes as signposts. Every time I watch a speaker look at notes I get distracted, so I try to not be that person, even though it is perfectly ok.

My speech turned out well, although I always feel like I can do better. I am a bit of a perfectionist. Afterwards, I was approached by several people in the audience who enjoyed hearing me speak, and wanted to connect after the event. Perfect speech or not, this why I do it. I enjoy using my story to help inspire others and to open new doors for myself that would not have opened otherwise.

The only downside to the day was that it was exhausting; I just don’t have a lot of energy anymore. I tired out quickly from standing and talking to people, then sitting down for long periods of time, then alternating sitting and standing as the photographer took pictures. I got home afterwards and took a nap, and ended up missing class.

Nonetheless, it was an exhilarating day. In addition to speaking, I also had an article published on STAT, which has been a goal of mine since it launched late last year. STAT is a life sciences website owned and operated by the Boston Globe. I am one of the first patients to be featured on the site, which is quite exciting. Hopefully there will be more opportunities for me to write for them in the future.

I heard from people from all parts of my life who liked and commented on the article, and who wished me well as I spoke at the ceremony. All in all, this was a day and an experience that I will never forget.

Here are some links to the pictures that were taken at the ceremony: 

https://www.massbio.org/events/signature-events/rare-disease-day-43537

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154569351133448.1073741930.377893583447&type=3

 

Storyteller

On By Chris AnselmoIn Through My Eyes1 Comment

One of the greatest benefits of business school, besides the education of course, has been my evolution as a public speaker. When I started the program almost a year and a half ago, I was terrified to stand in front of an audience. I was fearful that my voice would crack out of nervousness or my mind would go completely blank. It also doesn’t help that I can’t stand for long periods of time anymore. My first presentation in school went about as awful as you’d expect – my mind went blank and I had to read word for word off the slide. It was painful to watch.

Thankfully, for both the audience and for myself, things have changed dramatically. I not only have improved my presentation skills, but I also have caught the speaking bug. Although I still get nervous and would rather not present on business topics, I can hold my own in front of my classmates. Part of my improvement has been due to public speaking classes I’ve taken at school. I’ve learned techniques and tips that have been extremely helpful in structuring my presentation and in controlling my body language.

However, the greatest reason for my success has been outside of the classroom. The opportunities I have had to share my patient story is what has truly gotten me over “the hump”. I am at my most confident when I am sharing my story with others, and talking about my journey, specifically what it’s like to go from ability to disability. After all, who isn’t comfortable talking about themselves?

I mean that jokingly of course. The answer is me. I am not naturally someone who likes to be the center of attention, under a spotlight both literally and figuratively. The first time I spoke about my condition in front of an audience, I thought I was going to have a panic attack and throw up on stage. Now though, I can recite my story almost without thinking. What I realized is that my journey these last eight years is so ingrained in my soul that it is part of who I am. There is no memorization required; I just have to tell it like it is.

Over the last three years I have had wonderful opportunities to speak and share my story in front of various audiences. In April 2013 I was invited to the Jain Foundation conference in Washington D.C., where I talked about my experience with the disease and my participation in the clinical outcome study sponsored by the foundation. Thankfully I didn’t throw up on stage, especially since it was videotaped!

A year and a half later, in November 2014, I told my patient story at a fundraiser I helped organize called Strength, Science and Stories of Inspiration. That night was when I realized I was onto something special. There had to have been 200 people in the audience, including friends and my parents. Although nervous, I had control of the room from the start and it was a great success. More importantly, it made me realize that not only was it not that hard to share my story, but that my story was having an impact on people.

That belief was solidified a few weeks later, when I gave an “Eagle Talk” – the BC MBA program’s version of a TED talk. In front of 50-60 classmates and professors, I gave a 25-minute presentation that was extremely well-received. The talk also had the added benefit of finally putting me at ease with my classmates. I had been looking for a way to tell my friends what it was like to walk in my shoes, since this was the first time I had met a new group of people while disabled. Everyone else I knew – family, friends and coworkers – saw me transition from ability to disability. They knew me when I could run and climb stairs, only to see me weaken before their eyes over the next few years. This talk helped to put my life before business school into context for my new group of friends. I wanted them to know I was not always this way, but that I am also not ashamed of who I am.

I not only find it exhilarating to inspire an audience, I also like being able to tell my story on my own terms. When I speak, there is no editor, no filter between what I want to say and what is actually said. It is not written on paper for people to interpret or misinterpret. My story comes right from the source, and the audience can see the emotion and the vulnerability firsthand.

At the same time I believe, and make clear in my talks, that my story is not any more inspirational than the next person’s. I don’t have a monopoly on inspiration. There are countless people who are dealing with far worse hands and who are inspirations to me every day. Instead, I like to think of my speeches as helping to make others aware that any ordinary person has what it takes to overcome adversity and to fight through setbacks. If I can do it, anyone can. That is where I derive my greatest enjoyment, in helping others to realize this fact. I don’t share my story to have someone come away from it saying “Oh he’s so brave!“, as if it takes a great deal of courage to get up in the morning and try to live a semblance of a normal life despite my condition.

But I digress. Since that two-week stretch in November 2014, I have been looking for more opportunities to speak to a wider audience. I’ve given several presentations in class where I’ve been able to put my newfound confidence to work, but I’ve been yearning to go back to what has gotten me to this point – sharing my story and offering advice. It’s been over a year since I’ve given a talk, and I have to say I miss it a lot.

The speaking bug has also been gnawing at me this year as I search for a job. I keep asking myself, what do I really want to accomplish in my career? I realize now that whatever I do, speaking to crowds has to be a part of my life. Maybe I should be a public speaker – I’ve certainly considered it. It seemed inconceivable two years ago, but now it feels like a real possibility.

Over the past few months, in addition to class work and job hunting, I have been working hard to find opportunities to speak, which is why I am happy to say that more talks are in the works!

Without further ado, here is my schedule these next few months:

February 24th – I am so excited about this – I will be speaking to students at Northwest Catholic High School in my hometown of West Hartford, Connecticut. As part of their leadership curriculum, I will be sharing my story, and time permitting, sharing advice and the wisdom that I’ve accumulated over the last eight years. I’ve always wanted to convert my story into a talk where I can motivate and give others practical advice when dealing with adversity, and this is that opportunity!

February 29th – Five days later, I will speak at the Massachusetts State House for Rare Disease Day 2016. I was supposed to speak last year but the weather thwarted those plans. I am determined to be there this year, even if I have to sleep in the State House to do it. (On second thought, I am a bit of a germophobe so that may not be a good idea.)

March 24th – I will be on a panel at Northeastern, talking to students with disabilities about job hunting and the experience of declaring one’s disability in the job hunting process, something I have struggled with personally. I am hopeful and confident that I will be able to ease their concerns and show them that it can be done successfully, even if it is an added nuisance.

April 3rd – The third annual Strength, Science and Stories of Inspiration event will be held, location TBD. Although I will not be speaking this time (besides a short introduction), it is a great event that I hope you all can attend! More details to come once I know more….

May 29th – Still somewhat tentative, but I have been invited to speak at the Jain Foundation’s patient conference in Dallas. I’ve never been to Texas so this should be a fun time! It will be great to meet other patients with my disease. Any time you are dealing with something like a rare disease, it is imperative to meet others who are going through what you are dealing with on a daily basis. There is a level of unspoken understanding that is a huge comfort. The staff at the foundation are also wonderful people who I’ll be happy to see again!

So that’s it for now – I am open to other opportunities as they come about. As I’ve learned, oftentimes these opportunities pop up out of nowhere. It’s going to be a busy next few months, but at least it will be worthwhile. If any of them get videotaped I’ll be sure to share them!

 

Fleeting Gifts

On By Chris AnselmoIn Through My Eyes1 Comment

The holiday season is still my favorite time of year, although the reasons why have changed. When I was a kid, I would eagerly count down the days until Christmas, then on Christmas Eve, I would lie awake all night in anticipation of the coming morning. I rarely ever slept. I would think about all the presents Santa was going to leave under the tree and it filled me with excitement.

Once, I tried to convince my sister to sneak down with me at 5 am, but that idea was angrily shot down. Unlike me, she was able to sleep the night before. I was so impatient. I loved ripping open my gifts and leaving the floor strewn with wrapping paper and boxes. I was like a mini tornado. Life was simpler back then.

Just like everything in life though, things change as you get older. In my wise age of 29, I have a much greater appreciation for the true meaning of Christmas. I am proud that I don’t get caught up in manufactured holiday fervor. That’s not to say it’s all bad – I do enjoy the decorations and lights and ugly sweaters. But there is already enough stress in my life – worrying about getting the perfect gift for everyone is not something I choose to dwell on, not to mention navigating the rabid crowds at the mall fighting for every last deal. I hate crowds, especially now that I have balance issues and can get knocked over easily.

In the past it was toys that would bring me the greatest joy; now it is the selflessness of others. Maybe I am more aware of these stories of giving now that I am older, but it seems that they are all over the news these days. That is fine by me – they help to offset the awful events in going on in the world and serve as a nice counterbalance.

The holiday season is the time of year when we are reminded that society still has redeeming qualities. Sadly we need to be reminded of that from time to time. For example, in New Haven, a few days before Christmas, a pile of toys meant for underprivileged youth were stolen from a police precinct (how that happened I have no idea). Parents and volunteers were momentarily devastated, however the community (especially Wal-Mart) came to the rescue and more than made up for it by providing the financial resources necessary to repurchase the gifts and then some.

I could hear these stories all day. In a world filled with strife and hate, it is good to be reminded from time to time that the overwhelming majority of people are kind, gentle-hearted individuals.

That’s what the season is about, and where the true joy lies – showing kindness to others. In short, it is people that make the holidays special, whether it’s being generous towards those less fortunate, or enjoying company with the ones you love. Toys are fleeting and grow old quickly. Love is enduring.

Sadly, that’s what makes this particular holiday season so tough – my aunt passed away suddenly last Monday, four days before Christmas.

My Aunt Gail (we called her Auntie) never wanted anything for herself, and was always generous and giving to others. I never heard her utter a bad word about anyone, and there was not a malicious bone in her body. Her loss has created a void in our family that will not easily be replaced.

Compounding the sorrow, this isn’t the first relative to pass away in my family around Christmas time. My cousin passed away from a heart attack eight years ago, a week before Christmas, and other relatives have died near the holiday and shortly after the New Year. My family seems to take a disproportionate number of hits this time of year, which has gradually made this a bittersweet season for us all.

It is tough, no question. But it brings into focus just how important family is, and how we should never take anyone for granted. Toys are great when you are a kid, but when you grow up, you realize that the best gifts in life are those that will someday be taken away, long before you are ready to let go.

History Lesson

On By Chris AnselmoIn Through My Eyes, UncategorizedLeave a comment

This has certainly been an interesting time in my life. The last four months – heck, the last sixteen months – have been a complete blur. That is business school after all. That’s what everyone told me would happen. The last sixteen months have been a whirlwind of classes, exams, social events, and conferences. It has been full of sickness (thankfully not norovirus), weakness, laughter, stress, exhilaration and frustration. I even became a New Yorker for a summer.

Through it all, I have managed to stay afloat, although each semester it seems to get tougher. I remember back in September it was especially harrowing, so much so that I wondered how I would ever make it to winter break. Well, here I am – battered, bloodied, but otherwise unscathed.

When I was home for Thanksgiving I was almost through the madness, but faced another two weeks of final exams, papers and presentations. Thankfully, I still took some time to read for fun. I am a huge history buff, especially the Civil War. My mom brought down a few books I had on the subject that were collecting dust on a bookshelf. They provided a welcome escape.

One book was on the battle of Shiloh, one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War. It was 350 pages, but I flew through the book in no time. It was fascinating to think that the Union army under Ulysses S. Grant could be caught so off-guard by the Rebels. The situation got so bad on the first day of battle that they were nearly driven into the Tennessee River and forced to surrender.

What Grant did next helped motivate me to think of my challenges in a new light. His army was routed on the first day, but it was not defeated. There is no question he shares a lot of the blame for being unprepared in the first place, but his reaction to his circumstances helped change the face of the battle, and ultimately the war. Instead of retreating across the Tennessee as his subordinates pleaded, he decided to fight back and surprise the enemy the next morning (it’s always an easier decision when you receive overnight reinforcements).

The Federals surprised the Confederates and drove them out of all the land they conquered the day before. By the end of Day 2, they had recovered all their lost camps. The cost? Over 23,000 casualties. The Battle of Shiloh was vicious, but it showed the power of keeping cool when everything is going wrong, and of taking bold risks when the situation dictates prudence.

Now, I would not equate what I am going through to war, not in the least. But it is a struggle. Reading about the battle, I almost felt like I was being pushed relentlessly back by adversity to the brink of failure. I had no choice but to respond. I needed to complete my classes. I needed to network and find a job. Failure is not an option for me. I had to push back, and thankfully I was able to. Now I am on break and can rest for a month, although the struggle is far from over.

That’s not to say the last four months have been all sour grapes. In fact, this period of turmoil has been instrumental in forcing me to think about what I really want to do in life. Not what types of jobs I should be getting with an MBA, but what I really want to do. A lot of the jobs posted I haven’t been able to get my heart into, even though they are great positions. Through my circumstances, I have come to learn and to appreciate that I am on the road less traveled, as Robert Frost would say. I have been given quite a unique hand in life. Thankfully it could be much worse, but my disease is an unrelenting nuisance.

Because this condition is so rare, oftentimes I feel like I am alone. I do my best to explain my situation to others, but I still feel like there is a disconnect that can only be bridged by having someone walk in my shoes, and I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. The only compass I can rely on is the one inside of me. There is no blueprint for how I should live my life with this disease. Only anecdotes.

Although different, I have come to realize that although my circumstances have their disadvantages, they also have their advantages. My disease has lit a fire in me to make a difference in the world. I could easily see myself, without this disease, living a safe, comfortable life. I probably wouldn’t have even gone to grad school. There is nothing wrong with a safe, comfortable life – that is a blessing to have in this day and age. But there is something hard-wired into me that seeks a different life. It’s like I have this burning desire to do something no one else has done. I guess that makes me an entrepreneur, but I don’t feel like I am one in the traditional sense. At the end of the day I want to spend my time doing something that has a true, tangible impact on people’s lives, using my creativity to tell stories and better the lives of those who are in need of inspiration.

How this will manifest itself in my life I have no idea. Should I be a speaker? A writer? All/none of the above? I don’t know yet. I am letting the process play out while being proactive. I have my first speaking engagement in February. If it works out, it may lead to many more, and I may have my answer. Whatever the answer ultimately is, I will be comfortable with it. Long ago I stopped questioning my purpose in life, as the dots seem to be connecting every time I look back. I just have to be patient, and as I’ve said before, trust the journey will take me someplace worthwhile.

And hey, if the road gets bumpy, it never hurts to be reminded that when you are up against a river, you still have what it takes to fight your way back.

Keep Hope Alive

On By Chris AnselmoIn Through My Eyes1 Comment

So apparently my last blog post was on September 1st. Today is October 2nd. Yikes. That’s right – I went a month (a month!) without writing a post. In my world, that might as well be 10 years.

For the last couple of weeks I could hear the clock ticking in my head to write something – anything. To go a month without a post is a great way for me to go insane. After all, writing is my outlet, just like exercise is to so many others. Today – finally – I found some time to write, and I already feel better.

September was a whirlwind of a month – much bumpier than expected. I thought the second year of business school would be easier than the first, but I was wrong. New classes, logistical challenges and a setback on the job front made for a rough last few weeks. Sleeping became difficult again, and my heartburn returned, although not as bad as it was this time last year.

Although I’ve been busy, the other reason it took so long to write this is because I wanted to wait until I was level-headed again. I don’t like ranting, and I don’t like writing in the heat of the moment. The internet has a long memory – the last thing I need is to say something I will regret later on. Twitter has been the downfall of many for this very reason.

I like to think that I am capable of handling adversity, but I am still prone to falling into an extended funk when things don’t go my way. This last month showed me I still have to get better at remaining calm. I am not a pleasant person to be around when I’m sulking.

Fortunately, adversity is a topic I’ve written extensively about these last few years, so all I had to do was go back and reread (at my mother’s urging) pieces I’ve written in the past. The best person to give advice to me is, apparently, my former self. Reading these older posts was a useful exercise in remembering just how far I’ve come. I was reminded of how difficult everything was for me a few years back, when I was first trying to come to grips with a weakening body and the loss of many abilities. It put into perspective the challenges I’ve faced in the last month, which, lets face it, are minor in comparison.

My challenges today are more existential than anything. Class isn’t overly difficult, and I’m free during the day, so it’s not like I am overwhelmed with tasks, outside of a few meetings here and there. I guess part of what I’m struggling with at the moment is figuring out where I fit in the world. I feel like I am holding a piece to a puzzle, only I can’t find the puzzle. I can’t figure out where I belong, but I also feel like that I am destined for something great. I don’t mean that in an arrogant way, but I feel like I am meant to go through all of this to help others. I feel like that is why I’ve suffered, and also why I am so willing to share my story.

Right now though, I don’t know what job that translates into. Should I get a real, MBA-level corporate job, or become a motivational speaker? Should I become a writer and write a memoir or a screenplay, or work at a pharmaceutical company? I don’t know the answer. Can I do everything? I wish, but I don’t have the energy to. I have to choose wisely. I also have to weigh monetary concerns – I have to make sure I’m earning an income when I graduate since loans will be breathing down my neck before I know it. I’m casting a wide net so I don’t constrain myself or turn away opportunities I may not have initially considered. I am open-minded, but with that mindset comes additional stress. I’m confident I can work, speak, and write simultaneously, but what mix of the three is appropriate? I’m not sure.

But, I’ve gotten through uncertainty before and I’ll get through it again. I’ll get through it because I have to. I’ve come too far – with continued persistence and a chip on my shoulder that has served me well to this point, I will become something. I just need to keep grinding and keep fighting. I didn’t come this far to give up now.

The Crucial Year

On By Chris AnselmoIn Through My EyesLeave a comment

Where did summer go?

Today is September 1st, and I find myself back in class as a second-year MBA student. I feel like I’ve jumped into a time machine. How did this happen so fast? My internship at Pfizer, living in New York – both seem like distant memories now. Good memories, but distant ones.

I know, I know. This is how it always is. Summer goes by too fast and winter lasts too long. Such is life in New England. That doesn’t make the speed any less astonishing.

Life is moving fast as I get older (it’s the same for everyone, I also know). In the past it might have freaked me out that I am going to be 29 in two weeks, but now I am at peace with it. I’m an adult now, regardless of whether I still feel like a kid. I have come to learn and appreciate that the true measure of life is how well you live, not how old you are. As long as I am moving forward and achieving my goals in life, despite my limitations, I am happy. Besides, at least I’m only 29! My body feels 89.

Now that I am officially a second-year, the clock is ticking. I have been thinking a lot about the trajectory of my life, since this is my last year of business school. I have a unique opportunity to press the reset button and set a new course for the rest of my career. Although an exciting opportunity, there is still a lot of pressure. I must choose wisely. From here on out, it will be tough to switch careers. Not impossible, but tough. There are many different types of jobs that I am interested in, both in the for-profit and nonprofit sector. I am also in limbo regarding whether or not I will be receiving a full-time offer from Pfizer, so I have that weighing on me as well. I should find out sometime around my birthday, so hopefully it will be a nice present.

In the meantime, I have new classes to look forward to, which I am excited to take. This year I get to take all electives since I’ve already taken my core requirements. I am mixed in now with part-timers, which adds a new dimension of unfamiliarity. Additionally, the classrooms are laid out differently. Whereas my first-year classes were in an auditorium-style room with stairs, now all my classes are in regular classrooms. This means I no longer am forced to sit in front, with the tradeoff being that the chairs aren’t the easiest to get out of.

Despite all the changes, there is one constant that I am thrilled about – I don’t have to move. September 1st is a holiday in Boston – Allston Christmas. Students are flooding back to the city in droves, inhabiting new apartments all over town, as previous tenants move out. Trash, furniture, and just about everything you can think of can be found on the sidewalks, bedbugs included. It is an interesting time to be in Boston. College students add a vibrancy to this city that makes it an exciting place to be in the fall.

This is an important year – a crucial year for sure. There is a lot at stake, but I am confident that I’ll make the right decision, whatever that decision may be. All I can do is prepare the best I can, and if a curveball is thrown at me, I have the confidence of knowing that I’ve handled it before. It’s already another school year, but I am happy to see my classmates again. I have a lot to learn still before I re-emerge into the real world.

This is going to be a good year.

Sunrise from this morning.
Sunrise from this morning.

The Only Constant is Change

On By Chris AnselmoIn Through My Eyes1 Comment

Just like that, it’s over.

My summer in New York was quite possibly the fastest ten weeks of my life. It seems like yesterday that I was pulling my hair out trying to find a place to live, scouring Craigslist and a host of other sites for an apartment that was accessible and that I could afford. That hunt took place back in May; now it’s August, and the summer is just about over. But what a summer it was.

Spending ten weeks as a finance intern at a Fortune 50 company is an intense, fast-paced experience. Pfizer is a company I had wanted to work at for a while. Over the course of the summer the MBA interns were given the opportunity to meet with executives at the company to learn about their careers and to engage them in Q&A. One of the highlights of my summer was getting to ask CEO Ian Read a question, which was a huge thrill. Additionally, the interns were assigned a case study that required talking to people all throughout the company in many different functions. It was a great way to meet employees we normally wouldn’t interact with, and learn about the industry in a way that we wouldn’t have been able to otherwise.

The Pfizer building on 42nd and 2nd – my home for ten weeks.

I didn’t intend to leave Boston for my summer internship, but looking back I am happy for the change of scenery. I will always love Boston, but sometimes you don’t know how much you love something (or someone) until you are away for a period of time. In New York I was able to catch up with friends I hadn’t seen in years – and in one case, since high school. Although I wasn’t able to walk around the city as I would have liked, it was still a rewarding experience to meet up with friends, even if I kept meeting up with everyone at the same bar around the corner from my apartment. I gave Tuttle’s a lot of business.

My time in New York was not without its frustrations. The first couple of weeks were extremely rough logistics-wise. Any time I am thrust into a new situation where I have to learn a new routine, it is a difficult transition for me. I got lost a lot inside the building, which added extra steps to my day and tired me out. My original desk was far away from the bathroom, my boss’s desk and the elevators. Fortunately my desk was moved and I was able to settle in and relax.

A building bordering Bryant Park.
The W.R. Grace building bordering Bryant Park.

On the other hand, I am happy that I was doing all this walking in a new environment, in a new city, with new streets and experiences. If I have to walk constantly, I might as well be exhausting myself somewhere new and exciting. As a whole, I walked a lot this summer, and its unclear what toll it will take on my body. I was sore and stiff for many days after I left, and it’s just now starting to subside, two weeks later. I am not sure if further weakness will replace the soreness, but given my past history, it probably will. I still feel wobbly walking down the street, which is a little unsettling.

But, as I’ve written about countless times before, I have to get used to the uncertainty that my body throws at me every day. I have to be comfortable with the fact that doing something as simple as going to The Guggenheim now requires an hour of planning and costs much more now to experience (once you factor in the cab rides). This is how my life is, and I have no choice but to accept it. Fortunately, I’ve become a logistical expert through trial and error.

The Guggenheim.
The Guggenheim.

So, given how the summer played out, would I do it all over again? Absolutely.

I made many great friends in my ten weeks. I had a wonderful boss and was surrounded by supportive admins who never hesitated to ask how I was doing and if I needed anything. My friend and classmate Matt joined me at Pfizer this summer, often carrying my lunch on his tray. Many of the other finance interns showed the same willingness to help. We became a close-knit group, and will definitely keep in touch going forward into our second year of business school.

All in all it was a great time. I am back in Brookline now, relaxing before classes start back up on the 31st. I am confident that my experience has prepared me well for the future, which at the end of the day is all I could have asked for in an internship.

More importantly, I proved to myself that I can handle the challenge of living in New York City. It has chewed up and spit out many people, and for the first couple weeks, I was afraid that I would be one of them. Over time I adjusted, and I thrived. If this disease has shown me anything, it is that the toughness I am required to possess on a day-to-day basis just to function in this world makes the toughness and grit required to live in New York pale in comparison. I can handle this city just fine.

School starts in less than two weeks; life is moving at a tremendous speed. Change is constant in my life, whether it’s new classes, a new city, or my declining strength. Deep down I wonder what it would be like to have a stable, predictable life, but I am starting to believe I wouldn’t enjoy it. I can deal with the fast pace of life as long as I continue to find meaning in my struggle, and am surrounded by people I enjoy spending time with. My disease is a major source of aggravation, but it may very well be my path to living a greater life.

On to the next challenge: figuring out if I have it in me to root for BC football.

Go NU.

 

 

 

Some views from the 32nd floor of the Pfizer building:

View from the 32nd floor.

The Chrysler building, also from the 32nd floor.

IMG_0357

IMG_0359