The first crisis was in December of 1992. I was 39, married to my best friend, Elise; we had three girls aged 4, 7 and 12, and I was on a successful path. The future looked very bright, but we should not assume all brightness for the future because as Forrest Gump said, “life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you are going to get.” This is the first time that I have written about this, but let me tell you what I “got.” I came down with the stomach flu, which is very rare for me. Within a few days, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a dysesthetic pain across my entire chest and was rushed to the hospital. The hospital took several tests, but concluded that it must be a chest virus and sent me home; twice. Within a couple of hours, we rushed back to the hospital because I was in distraught pain, wobbly, and my bladder had failed. I was then finally admitted to the ICU and by morning I was completely paralyzed. The damage was scattered beginning at C2 and all the way down. The MRI showed severe inflammation across the entire cord. Two days later, I was transferred to Stanford University Hospital in critical condition.