Here are a few of the mileposts along Sid Hall’s journey with ALS. The disease is different for everyone, but some things are typical.
In early 2015, Sid fell hard on ice, landing on the bottom of his spine on a rock. Sid thinks his ALS dates from this event but no neurologist will support the theory. Sid started doing physical therapy to strengthen his body but the weakness only got worse.
He even went to a chiropractor but he continued to decline. Doctors could not understand what was happening until a neurologist finally diagnosed ALS. The neurologist was highly competent, but asked Sid if he knew what ALS is. When Sid said he thought it was bad, the doctor said, “Oh yes, it’s deadly.”
Doctors believed Sid might have two to four years to live, but he continued to be active, going for long hikes and walks for the next several years, but resting frequently. He was told to let his muscles fully recover after every exertion.
Sid’s wife and friends organized a team for an ALS bike ride in Massachusetts. The team raised a lot of money for ALS research, and won rookie team of the year. Sid rode the whole distance—with a little help. The event made Sid really appreciate people.
In 2016, Sid pushed some limits, traveling and hiking and taking a cross-country trip with a brother. During this time, he graduated from a family cane named Florence (that belonged to his great-grandmother) to a brand new cane named Henry and finally to a set of lightweight poles. His specialty became hiking downhill.
On a trip to Switzerland, Sid tripped and took one of his many spectacular falls. Says Sid: “Luckily, I broke my fall with my nose and forehead. Two Swiss policemen, each about twelve feet tall, picked me up and carried me between them back to the train, my feet skimming above the ground. The nurse on board the train was drop-dead gorgeous, so I made the most of my pain on a long trip home.”
In the middle of 2017, now dealing with respiratory issues, Sid climbs down and up the 300 steps to the lighthouse at Point Reyes (and writes a poem about it): “I turn my mouth in the wind’s direction / and open it like a fish. / I suck the gale of air into my lungs / with every step and it helps to push me up, / though it wants to push me down.” (continued)
Continue to An ALS Voyage: Part II. ⮑