Pushing hard on long distance bicycle rides – from the Wyoming News @ http://www.wyomingnews.com/articles/2009/10/12/news/20local_10-12-09.txt
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Editor’s note: On Thursday, Cheyenne author Mark Junge will begin his fifth long-distance bicycle ride. Junge, who is oxygen-dependent, is sponsored by Invacare Corporation, a manufacturer of home medical equipment; Cryolife, a biomedical company specializing in tissue preservation and biological implants; Cheyenne Regional Medical Center; and Rock on Wheels.
“You look at where you’re going and where you are, and it never makes sense. But then you look back at where you’ve been and a pattern seems to emerge. And if you project forward from that pattern, then sometimes you can come up with something.” — Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
At the age of 66, the patterns of my life have become fairly obvious, though I’m not sure of their relative importance to Cheyenne or Wyoming history.
One of those has emerged during the past five years, during which my wife, Ardath, and I have made four long-distance trips, she driving our van and I riding a bicycle while breathing supplementary oxygen. The geographic pattern of those trips nearly forms the letter “H” draped across a map of the U.S.A.
In 2004, we followed the Lincoln Highway 3,500 miles from San Francisco to New York City.
In 2006, we picked up the trail in Times Square, squiggling north along the Atlantic coastline for 1,785 miles to Cape Spear, Newfoundland.
Two years ago, we followed U.S. Highway 1 north along the Pacific coastline for 1,200 miles from San Francisco to Vancouver, B.C. And last year, we turned south from San Francisco and followed the same road 650 miles to the Mexican border.
Another pattern that seems to be emerging is the trips are getting shorter. That will change some this week when we leave Times Square and begin an 800-mile Atlantic coastline tour south to Charleston, S.C. — or until the money runs out, whichever comes first.
Next year, we hope to finish the last leg of the “H” from Charleston to Key West, Fla. Thus, we will have traveled from coast to coast and border to border. That claim and a nickel, as they say, might get us a cup of coffee at Wall Drug. Is that all? Are there no other patterns in this odyssey?
Some of our cynical friends might reply, “Yes, the obvious one is insanity.” Maybe, but it depends upon your point of view.
These trips are not such a big deal, logistically. Keep in mind that following the Trojan War, Odysseus wandered around the Mediterranean for 10 years before he found his way back to Ithaca. On the other hand, it has taken Ardath and me less than a year to travel 7,000 miles, and each of our adventures has ended
See Junge, page A8
in Cheyenne, sitting in our recliners.
All Odysseus wanted was get home to Penelope; Ardath travels with me. Furthermore, we don’t just wander. We have a purpose. Our mission is to alert the public to the problem of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, or COPD, a catch-all term for lung ailments that many people do not recognize.
Ever since that first transcontinental trip, I have noticed another pattern: The number of COPD victims is increasing.
New York pulmonologist Dr. Neil Schachter writes that in little more than a decade, COPD will be the third-deadliest disease in the world behind circulatory problems and cancer. He estimates that COPD already affects 35 million Americans.
In 2002, I was rudely thrown into the COPD mélange with a diagnosis of blood clots in the lungs. For the rest of my life, those scarred lungs would require supplementary oxygen. My God-given right to breathe freely was compromised.
The good news is that oxygen has become portable. In the life of an oxygen-dependent person, that can mean the difference between normalcy or depression and productive or unproductive living.
Not that every day is happy and productive, of course. But the days that aren’t so productive for oxygen-dependent people are made better by portable oxygen. For me, portability is necessary for exercise, like riding a bike.
Beginning Thursday at Times Square, I’ll field test Invacare’s XPO2 Portable Oxygen Concentrator. My heart will pump blood through a Cryolife homographic, or human, aortic valve that has kept me alive for the past 16 years.
Another pattern that I have noticed since 2004 is one that is hard to perceive unless you are oxygen-dependent and you travel. By that I mean: Most of the time you won’t see oxygen-dependent people.
Awareness of COPD comes when you see older men and women walking around with canulas attached to their noses, carrying oxygen bottles in backpacks or pushing carts with metal tanks. Some are not so obvious because they have transtracheal tubes implanted in their necks. Others camouflage their oxygen-dependency with custom eyeglasses.
But I suspect that most oxygen-dependent folks are hidden from public view in homes or healthcare facilities. They are a segment of the population that is out of sight and out of mind, except to those who care for them.
Mobile or not, members of the COPD underclass do not take breathing for granted. For them, it is an effort, and for some the breath they have is a technological blessing.
It’s pretty obvious that people who would benefit from portable oxygen do not get enough encouragement to be mobile in their lives. But that is not due to a lack of human kindness. It is a problem of profitability and national policy.
Home health-care providers struggle to make a living. There is little profit incentive for providing portable oxygen to those who would benefit by it.
A glance at Medicare law reveals that federal policy discourages these healthcare workers from promoting oxygen portability.
These are the patterns and issues that have become obvious to me as I bicycle around the country.
It’s no longer surprising when I stop to talk to people about oxygen portability that they have parents, relatives or friends with lung problems. It’s also no surprise that many of these people are not aware of these latest technological improvements.
Mobility means freedom. Freedom means improved physical and mental health that lead to productivity. Individual productivity leads to societal productivity and so forth and so on.
Next week, we’ll share some of the places and people that an oxygen-dependent person discovers as he pokes through this Fibber McGee closet called America.
More anon.