Fly Me to the Moon

When I was diagnosed with Meniere’s Disease I knew at some level life would never be the same again, and it seemed fairly clear from what the specialist I saw told me, that there really wasn’t any treatment for me that was worth the risk-reward ratio. I accepted this at the time, partly because I didn’t know how hard life was going to be, and partly because so many stories from sufferers on the Internet spoke of the caveats of surgical intervention; there nearly always seemed to be some cost in terms of health involved.

So I was outraged when I found out about Alan Shepard. Probably the most famous sufferer of Meniere’s Disease in modern times, the first American astronaut in space not only underwent corrective endolymphatic sac shunt surgery four years after his diagnosis in 1968, but unbelievably was returned to flight status and walked on the Moon in 1971 as part of the Apollo 14 mission. I can’t even make it to the local supermarket without feeling ill, and thirty-eight years ago this guy was cured so conclusively that NASA entrusted him to command a lunar mission. It’s just mindblowing.

So now this guy is my hero at some level, because he beat Meniere’s even if having a multi-million dollar medical service at your disposal must help. The story provides the first real inspiration I’ve found since my diagnosis, and I may eventually get around to reading his biography, Light This Candle, although I fear I may be disappointed by it because it’s the illness I’m most interested in and I suspect in such a remarkable life it’s unlikely to take up more than a few pages. It’s inspirational as it is and that’s enough to me for now; hope is important.