On July 4, 1939 a frail Henry Louis Gehrig stepped in front of a packed crowd at Yankee Stadium. The Manhattan-native knew he was sick, but he was unaware that his illness (Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis or ALS) would soon claim his life.
Gehrig was not only a great baseball player, he was a great man. Not only did he set a standard that all baseball players can aspire to, as Landis pointed out, he also set a standard that all human beings can aim for, whatever role they play in life.
Almost everybody has heard of Alzheimer's, but few are aware of LBD, an equally devastating dementia that is progressive and fatal. Perhaps Kasem's diagnosis may finally bring LBD the attention it deserves.
Augie Nieto didn't just come to grips with his ALS, he began to persevere and overcome. He summoned those same rare qualities that made him an effective and respected leader, and applied them to his new reality.
Complex medical cases demand human reasoning and judgment to achieve true accuracy. Strict adherence to rules-based algorithms and checklists has already left too many veterans shortchanged in their benefits.
How we each can lift ourselves above the fray -- life's circumstances, negativity and excuses -- is the true message of Thanksgiving that I see. Because, if we're truly thankful, then we will know that our lives have a higher purpose, and our expression of gratitude is to live out that purpose.
We've all heard stories from cancer survivors or cancer non-survivors about how the cancer made them more alive than ever, about how it brought their world out of black and white and into Technicolor, like Dorothy landing in Oz.
The story starts, in my life, when I was first a student in college. I grew up an atheist, and I did not discover Judaism and religion until I was a student in college. In fact, I met God and Elana the same semester; it was clearly my season of love!
Ever since I was diagnosed with ALS (Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis), I have noticed that people are 100 percent confused about the deadly disease. I need to set the record straight: people with ALS (PALS) can see, hear and perfectly understand what you're saying.
During May, ALS Awareness Month, let's pay special tribute to my sister Nell, all the others living with this disease, and those who have gone before them. Think of them the next time you take a step. Embrace your child. Speak softly to your loved one.
It's odd to think of my autopilot life, the one before. Working at a job I loved and navigating the daily dance of sibling warfare, homework and appointments. Then one night I looked down at my left hand. "Holy shit," I yelped. "You need to go to the doctor," John said.
Dawn Clark Netsch was the first woman I really admired. I was five years old and in awe of her--her voice, her clothes, her ideas. When she spoke, she knew what she was talking about. I wanted my hair cut just like hers. I wanted to grow up and be like her.
As if being diagnosed with a terminal disease (for the record, I have no intention of letting this beat me) isn't bad enough, it is a disease that the general public has never heard of or knows very little about.