This would be a special day — a day I needed on the bike. A 70-mile ride from Woodbridge, Virginia to Charles Town, West Virginia to see my wonderful daughters, Bethany, and Ashley, along with my sons-in-law and grandson.
As I left the house the clouds were very dark with strong winds that would be in my face for all 70 miles. And I am thinking this is a metaphor for my life. I am headed into dark storm clouds. Would the clouds give way to blue skies or would thunder and lightning be in store?
I know my fitness level isn’t where I need it so I decided to take my time. As much as I like to push it on the downhills I decided that I would coast down most hills instead of hammering it. I would enjoy those “whew-hoo” moments. My cadence would show that too as I averaged a lot of zeroes with my 90-100 rpm.
I go the shortest route I know. It also has the least amount of traffic but some roads are still dangerous. I go out through Manassas but Sudley Road past the Manassas Battlefield is a tight squeeze. Gum Springs Road to Braddock Road is okay but Braddock Road is a dirt road in poor shape for about three miles. I ride on U.S. 15 and 50 for a combined four dangerous miles.
After leaving Rte 50, Snickersville Turnpike is a beautiful rolling country road that leads to Airmont and a turn towards Round Hill.
At Airmont, one can see the Blue Ridge Mountains. I take satisfaction looking as far as I can see and knowing that I have crossed all the major road crossings over these summits. Straight ahead is Snickers Gap (Rte 7) and Mount Weather. Further south is Clarks Gap (US Rte 50). To the north is Harpers Ferry and the climb out of the Potomac River Valley. Today’s route connects with a shoulderless Rte 9 over Keyes’ Gap.
I made one rest stop — on Braddock Road where I consumed two energy bars. And that was it. I also consumed one energy bar while on the bike as well as one pack of Sport Beans. When I reached Rte 9 just west of Hillsboro I stopped long enough to down a packet of Hammer Gel.
Eventually, blue skies came out but those gave way to dark rain clouds. Going up Keyes’ Gap I was in a mist which I didn’t mind. It helped me cool off while making it easier to breathe. (There is more oxygen in the air when it is raining.)
The ride was difficult for me. Always a headwind, at times there were wind gusts of 30 mph and no one blocking the wind. These rides are so much easier when others share the lead.
The clouds indeed were dark but nothing bad came of them. Hopefully, that too is a metaphor for my life.
How quickly the fitness seems to disappear, even while trying to stay in shape by riding on the trainer. There’s nothing like being on the road. Either that or this was a pretty hard climb.
About 60 riders showed up in Frederick for a BB/B ride called Knock Knock Knockin’ on the President’s Door. After leaving Frederick and rolling for about 10 miles we turned into the forest and went through Cunningham Falls State Park and through Catoctin Mountain Park.
My riding was difficult because of a split on my broken wrist. I couldn’t put pressure on the wrist which meant no climbing out of the saddle. Over the next few miles, we had a five-mile climb, followed by a two-mile descent, then a final three-mile climb. The last climb would take us past Campground Number 3.
I was hanging with our group, even while seated until I got a massive cramp in my calf. I sat up, unclipped, and stretched my calf, but never stopped. But I lost time and contact with most of the group and simply had to ride at my own pace. Through most of it, I did keep in contact with one rider and hoped he knew the route. As usual, I didn’t take a cue sheet and had no idea where I was going.
The second climb was sustained at 6% but had grades of 11-14%. I’m just hoping riding in the saddle makes me stronger because it sure didn’t seem that way. I was envious as the other riders all popped out of their saddles for that extra push up the steep inclines.
The two-mile descent was rough on me. The pavement was awful and I am very aware that I can’t go down on a broken wrist. To do so would be risking turning a simple hairline fracture into a compound fracture.
The road was extremely bumpy and it hurt to hold the handlebars with the wrist. I probably lost more time to the group on the descent than on the climbs. I took it slower than most to avoid the vibrations and often just kept my right hand on the handlebars.
On the second climb up Park Central, we passed entrances for Campground Numbers 1 and 2. I had heard about and then saw the entrance on Campground Number 3. It was a much nicer entrance than the other two and had clear signs marked to keep out. This is the presidential retreat, Camp David. But one could only see the entrance road and no structures.
Once I cleared the summit it really was all downhill. I briefly lost contact with everybody at an intersection and just guessed which way to go. I was right. I then caught one rider who told me he designed the route so I stayed with him until the rest stop in Thurmont.
When we left the Sheetz in Thurmont there were 12 of us and we stayed together for most of the ride back to Frederick. At one point, Klara Vrady asked me if I needed to drop off the pace and she would also. A few weeks earlier she struggled and I had met her by riding with her. Now she was offering the same. It was a generous offer and I wondered how bad I looked for her to make the offer. I declined (because I am a man and we decline all offers of help).
All the sitting in the saddle was taking its toll on me and I remember looking at my mileage and thinking there’s no way I can hang with this group for another 15 miles. And then I was told we had 3-4 miles to go. I don’t know why I thought it was a 68-mile route — it was 58. I had it made.
The distance was the same as the Blue Ridger Backwards and Happy Happy Pain Pain and the climbing was slightly less. But sitting in the saddle all day just wiped me out. I can’t wait to get the splint off although there’s a chance it will be re-cast tomorrow. Wish I had never crashed on Bike to Work Day.
Campground Number 3 is located at 21.6 miles on the map.
EDIT/EPILOGUE – I didn’t realize it at the time but I was probably as sick that day as I have ever been with a pretty nasty e.Coli infection.
It was two weeks ago I broke my wrist in a crash. On Monday after the crash, I got fitted in my waterproof cast. It was waterproof only in the fact that it could get wet.
On Thursday I refereed a high school boys varsity district championship match at Brentsville High School. When I returned home and showered I started to get the chills. The night was awful. I was running a high fever and the pain in my hand was almost unbearable.
On Friday I went back to Dr. Hanna who cut off the cast fearing infection in the wound in my hand which was under the cast. I would deal with the fever until Wednesday. I was drained once the fever broke. I was also on antibiotics to kill the infection if it was biological.
In hindsight, the pain was probably caused by sweat inside the cast from the game which seeped into the open wound. It was very painful and probably unrelated to the fever.
Yesterday, Friday, I returned to the doctor with the expectation of being recast. Instead, Dr. Hanna looked at the wound on my hand and examined my wrist. He was reluctant to cast over the still-open wound on my hand and decided to leave my wrist in a removable splint so that the wound will continue to heal.
The next course of action is an X-ray in another week and then, “if things look good,” remain in the splint for six weeks.
Of course, this allowed me the opportunity to ride with The Bike Lane group in Reston. But I wasn’t ever real comfortable. I normally enjoy riding in the pack but not today. One wrong move by another rider and I could go down. And if I went down on the wrist it could break all the way through. So I ended up keeping contact but a safe distance.
The other concession I made was to stay in the saddle for the entire 28-mile ride. I envied my friends as they popped out of the saddle for an extra burst on the steep climbs. But I did not want to stand and put weight on my wrist. I may have given up a little on the climbs and I didn’t bomb the descents but it was nice to ride again. Ultimately, I am hopeful that forcing myself to stay in the saddle, one gets out because it’s easier, I will become a stronger rider.
Seven point six miles is the distance up the Mount Washington Auto Road. It is also the distance that I rode today, three days after my bike crash which resulted in a broken wrist.
Perhaps there is some symbolism here. Maybe it’s a “sign” but I’m not sure I believe in signs. I don’t even know how to spell symbolism.
I crashed three days ago more figuratively than literally. A broken wrist and six weeks off the bike off would kill my fitness and preparation for the Mount Washington Climb. Information in the emergency room was hard to come by. I was told simply what I pretty much knew – I broke my wrist.
There was a report slipped in with my X-rays but I dropped those at my former* orthopedic surgeon’s office on Friday without reading it. I should have read it.
That hurt
Today was the day to be fitted for a cast. I was not nearly as depressed going into today as I was on Friday. On Friday I believed all my riding had ended. But over the weekend I decided I could, at a minimum, ride a trainer for the next six weeks although I would miss the long training rides with Potomac Pedalers. I would have to be careful and always remain seated because I couldn’t stand and put weight on my wrist.
Short Cast
But doing training work while seated would be better training than out of the saddle. This may turn out okay after all. Don’t get me wrong, I’d much rather not have a broken wrist but I will make the best of it.
Here is my report: Faint transverse radiolucent line in the distal epiphysis of the radius along the lateral margin suggests undisplaced fracture. The doctor went with a short cast over the forearm, waterproof (cool!), and for four weeks not six, at my urging. I’ll have another X-ray in four weeks and will probably go to hard brace for two weeks after that.
I’m going to make 7.6 miles.
*I wrote about my former orthopedic surgeon. Here’s why.
Rather than go straight to the E.R. on Friday I thought of my surgeon who has X-ray equipment in his office. Thinking I would cut out the middledoc, I went to his office and asked if he could see me. I was told he couldn’t which was partially expected.
Being a foot and knee patient since 1991, I was hoping not to be treated as some walk-in but with some deference to my history there. The receptionist told me to wait and she would check. She checked, presumably with the doctor but who knows? Come back to see us after the E.R.
In the E.R. a nurse asked if I had an orthopedic surgeon. Almost without listening to my answer (yes) she then offered her opinion, “the only thing I would suggest is not to go to [fill in former doctor’s name here].” I told her that was my doctor but I would respect her opinion.
After two hours in the E.R. (not bad for an E.R. visit) I left with my X-rays and drove to Dr. Former’s office. When I tried to make an appointment for Monday I was told the earliest would be Thursday. Frustrated and hurting, I left my X-rays at the office and left.
Potomac Hospital had an orthopedic doctor, Joseph Hannah, on duty so I found his number and called the office. They would work me in on Monday.
Monday came and I went to Dr. Former’s office to pick up my X-ray. They wanted to know if I had made an appointment to pick up my X-rays. Arrrg. Fifteen minutes later I was out of there to see Dr. Hannah. And he’s good.
I am bummed right now. Everything I have done since July 12, 2008, was to prepare myself for Newton’s Revenge* on July 11, 2009. A 42-mile Bike to Work Day ride may have ended that today when I crashed and broke at least my wrist. Even if the cast is off in time my fitness will be shot.
I made it up the “Rockpile” last year, albeit badly, and Mary Power, the Mount Washington Auto Road Events Director told me it gets in your blood. And it does.
I started walking the 12 floors each morning to my office rather than riding the elevator. I was committed to dropping 12 pounds to a more favorable climbing weight of 160. And I was down to 164 – the lowest of my adult life.
Broken Wrist
I hadn’t yet made the changes to the front ring but was planning to drop it to a serious climbing gear of 24 teeth. I bought a set of lighter wheels perfect for climbing. Last year I was one of the few riders who rode the race in a standard factory setup with no gear modifications. This year was going to be different. It had to be different.
I started a training program designed to increase my power. And after the first week of workouts, it may have been working. I noticed that this morning I averaged 20 mph to Occoquan over 6.5 miles. I wondered if I was already getting a benefit.
In the past three weekends, I rode the Blue Ridge Ramble, Blue Knob Ski Resort, and a classic ride from Myersville, Md. to Pennsylvania and back, Happy Happy Pain Pain. I was feeling good.
And I was feeling great today.
Road bikes are designed for the road. And roads are usually straight with gradual curves and grades, Mount Washington being an exception. Not so much these bike paths. Unfortunately, bike paths are often squeezed into spaces where roads don’t fit. They fly up and over existing roadways or tunnel under highways. They can have steeper than normal grades and sharper turns.
I had followed the Washington & Old Dominion (W&OD) trail to the Custis Trail. The Custis Trail goes through Rosslyn in Arlington Co. then descends down to the Mount Vernon Trail. At this point I was 38 miles into my Bike To Work Day ride, I came upon this descent and let the bike roll. I was going 20 mph when I saw a sharp turn to the left. Overnight rains had left a gooey mess of mud and moss mixed in with some sand and gravel.
I used my rear brake to slow the bike for the curve ahead but the tire slid in the muck. I released the brake and leaned and steered the bike through the turn. My momentum took the bike through the curve and the wheels slipped out from under me.
I hit the asphalt real hard and went sliding across it until I came to a stop. I could feel road rash on my left thigh and could see it on my leg. One thing to be thankful for: shaved legs. Without hair ripping out more skin, the damage to my leg was relatively minor in comparison to the rest of my body.
I unclipped and saw the blood on my hand and could feel that my wrist hurt. A couple of riders came by and asked if I was hurt. I told them I was. They kept going.
I brushed myself off, poured water on my hand and legs to get most of the dirt off, then rode four more miles to work. More than half the time I held my arm like a broken wing and rode with one hand. It hurt to put the injured hand on the handlebars.
At work, I got some assistance in the Fitness Center in taking off my jersey and in cleaning up. I then went to my office (via elevator — this was the first day I didn’t take the stairs). I worked for about 15 minutes before deciding the emergency room visit was necessary.
Now I face the question of what’s next. Six weeks in a cast will take me to June 30. If I am off the bike until then there is no way I will have the fitness or climbing legs to make Mount Washington. I am really bummed right now.
Monday I go for a hard cast. I haven’t been told how serious the break is or if there is more than one. If I can ride a trainer during this time it won’t be the same as being on the road but there’s still a chance. My only chance now is to be able to ride a trainer…
Check out the elevation chart. There are no flats on this ride.
I parked in East Freedom, Blair Co., at the elementary school. It started out sunny and seemingly warmer than it was. I wore a jersey and arm warmers. I soon realized it was cooler than I thought with temperatures never climbing more than the mid-50s. I slipped on a jacket that was in my back pocket.
My route took me down the valley and around the base of Blue Knob. Blue Knob is both a State Park and ski resort. At 3,127 feet (953.1 meters) it is the second-highest peak in Pennsylvania, second only to Mount Davis in Somerset Co. (3,212 feet).
After 22.5 miles the climb began at Pavia. The Blair Bicycle Club listed the climb as almost five miles at 7%. They listed a 25% section which I did not find. But the distance was right and it was a nice climb. I think two cars passed me on the way up so “lightly traveled” might even be an understatement.
Blue Knob Ski Resort
It was a ghost town at the top if one building, a ski lodge, constitutes a town. If I needed a place to get more water or food and had counted on this, I would have been out of luck. Actually, I was counting on this but on this cool day, the two bottles on my bike were enough.
The descent from Blue Knob was a little scary. The first mile of the descent was steep and in horrible shape. There were many potholes and lots of loose gravel. The steepness necessitated riding the brakes but the gravel made it dangerous to use them.
The wind was blowing and it was cold — in the mid-40s, and I was still soaked with sweat from the climb. But after the first mile, the pavement improved. And once I reached Ski Gap Road it was a long straight 2-3% descent back down to Claysburg.
At Claysburg I had to return to East Freedom. But the road I was on, Bedford Street, was lightly traveled and in great shape. This would be a great place to live to ride. One can stay on the flat roads of the valley or head to the mountains.
And then the most surreal part of the ride. In East Freedom, I saw a man mowing his lawn. I first went by him then something said to turn around. I did and I caught his attention. I introduced myself and then told him “I used to live in this house.”
John Griffin immediately said “well you have to come in and see the house.” He proceeded to take me room by room while I was wondering “was this the house I lived in when I was three or was it the house next door?” But eventually, I figured out that it was the right house and gave him a little history to go along with what he gave me, namely, the house was built in 1910.
Afterward, it was a quick trip to Panera in Altoona for some refueling and lunch with a special cousin. This was an incredible day. It was a trip over a mountain and back in time.
Visiting Ashley in Ranson, West Virginia, I decided to head out for a ride along the basic route of the South Mountain Loop, a 37-mile route for hybrids or mountain bikes, which originates in Brunswick, Maryland. Only one problem presented itself: I rode the route just once six years ago and would attempt to ride it from memory. I did pretty well, only missing one turn which I would do differently.
The day was cold and windy. Winds were constant at 20-30 mph with higher gusts. Temperatures were in the mid-30s to start and only climbed to near 50º (10º C) by the end of the ride. Everywhere there was a headwind. I don’t know how this could be but it was.
Instead of starting in Brunswick, I started in Ranson and followed US 340. When I crossed the Shenandoah River just upriver from Harpers Ferry, I turned on Chestnut Hill Road. From 340, Chestnut Hill Road looks almost impossible to drive up and does look impossible to bike up. But on a bike is where magic happens.
I turned the corner and kept climbing higher and higher. The GPS showed 12% then 14% then 18%. When it “leveled” off to 4% I decided to turn around and go back to the route I had planned. I descended at 45 mph. I could have gone faster but there was a stop sign, heavy traffic, a guard rail, and the Potomac River at the bottom.
I followed US 340 into and out of Virginia and across the Potomac River into Maryland. I passed beautiful farmland to Burkittsville, the location of the horror movie, The Blair Witch Project. It’s a lovely little village and I can’t say I saw any witches. But who really knows for sure? They don’t all look like Elphaba.
Welcome to Burkittsville
Out of Burkittsville, I climbed a ridge road along South Mountain before being dropped back into the valley then climbing up Reno Monument Road. At the base of Reno Monument Road is a large, slightly unkempt house on the left. You know, the kind where a huge dog is lurking ready to attack. Outriding dogs can present their own adrenaline rush but I’m not going to out pedal a dog while going up a 20% hill.
My dogdar (that’s like radar to detect dogs) was on full alert mainly because when I rode this six years ago I was chased by a big dog at this house. Yes – you remember those things.
I was quietly pedaling, not shifting gears, and generally trying to avoid disturbing any creatures who may live there. And then I saw him. A huge dog but I’m not sure of his breed.
And he saw me. Or she saw me. I didn’t want to get close enough to check.
The dog came flying across the yard and I dismounted and started being really nice. There was no way I was going to flee and kick in the dog’s chase mentality. I was on the right side of the road and the dog was to the left. I hoped that he wouldn’t come across the road at me. I walked a little saying stupid things he couldn’t understand like “nice puppy.” This completely killed my average speed for the day too. I should have paused the Garmin.
My break came when just as the dog was coming out of his yard a car came down the hill and almost hit it. Brakes squealed, the driver stopped and I used the car as a shield to sneak away.
Reno Hill kicked up to 20% but it was a relatively short climb. At the summit, there are some Civil War markers and a “Private Road” sign which invited me to ride.
Burkittsville, Md.
I turned left and was riding the very summit of South Mountain. A one-lane paved road with no traffic was great. I wondered where the road would end. I thought it was a U.S. Park Service one-lane road which perhaps made a loop. The grade was great for climbing. A lot of 12% with even higher numbers as well. After two miles I came to a dead end. Some government installation. Some secret government installation. I smiled for the cameras and turned around.
Back to the main road, I descended into the valley on the east side of the mountain. I missed the road that would have taken me to Chestnut Ridge and down to Harpers Ferry. But Rte 67 has a very wide shoulder and was a nice run into Brunswick.
As I approached Brunswick I saw the last road on the right and thought it would be fun to take it to Harpers Ferry if that’s where it went. It didn’t. It was a heck of a climb and ultimately I realized I was climbing for no reason that the road would not cross the mountain. I was right. I made a loop right back to Rte 67. Bonus miles.
I was not prepared for the distance with the climbing on this day. Or the wind. I climbed almost 6,000 vertical feet. Other than a small packet of Sport Beans (by Jelly Belly), I had no food and I ran out of water. I bonked and the thought of climbing back out of the river valley was too much. I pulled out my cell phone but no one answered my distress call.
My emergency funds consisted of two dollars in my saddlebag and were used to purchase a Snickers bar at the Exxon Station at the base of Harpers Ferry Road. Hunger solved. I made the 2-mile climb up the US 340 past Harpers Ferry to the plateau with ease.
The stats don’t show the entire trip because I reset the Garmin nine miles into the ride so I rode close to 66 miles. It was a good day but very tiring.
Rain came down, hard at times in San Jose. The boys have two mountain passes today on their way to Modesto. Have a safe trip!
My last day at the Amgen Tour. of California. I decided to spectate. I had a good time volunteering throughout the tour. In Sacramento, Santa Rosa, and especially Santa Cruz, I was the face of the Tour for many people and the face of cycling for these folks. The good people who came out in Sacramento and Santa Rosa were somewhat informed but still were inquisitive.
The folks who came out in Santa Cruz were mostly curious. My position in Santa Cruz was along a residential street and the only spectators, and there were a few, were locals who lived in the neighborhood. Most of them were retirees. I had to begin with Cycling 101. It was fun. My position on the course was necessary to keep people off a dangerous part of the course but it was a bad place to view the race.
After three days of being stuck in locations that were helpful to spectators but boring for me, I decided to head to the hill where I could simply spectate.
Sierra Road was the place. It immediately leaves the Silicon Valley and starts a climb. Sierra Road climbs from an elevation of 264 feet to 2041 feet over 3.6 miles. It has an average grade of 10%. Walking it I passed a number of walkers and a couple of cyclists.
Sierra Road, San Jose, Calif.
My thought while headed up the grade was “wow, this is really steep and this is really long.” Only after I returned did I look up the stats and discovered it’s half as long as Mount Washington, doesn’t reach 6,000 feet, isn’t nearly as steep (12% is, after all, 20% steeper than 10%), and actually has some flat and even downhill sections where the body can recover.*
Some cyclists walked. Others kept plodding along. A few cyclists came by with a pretty good pace and then a Liquigas rider came flying by. He left them in the dust (well, road mist). I know some people buy kits of their favorite teams but who owns the complete Liquigas kit other than a true rider? I figured Team Liquigas brought an extra rider or two and they are riding ahead of the peloton for their fitness. I don’t know who that was.
Once I reached the top the temperature dropped, the winds picked up, and the rain started. And it was cold. My estimate was it was in the mid 30s with a wind chill in the mid 20s. I had an umbrella and shared it with another guy.
Unlike Sacramento, Santa Rosa, and Santa Cruz, there weren’t any curious onlookers at the summit. Everyone there was a cyclist or cycling fan. I figured the people who were erecting signs for Steven Cozza (Garmin-Slipstream) were his parents. At the top were the parents of Scott Nydam (BMC) and his fiance. She was marking the pavement with his name in chalk although it was a losing battle against the rain. It’s neat being at the top and chatting with the families of the riders. Try that in France!
There were probably 100 of us at the top and, who knows, a few hundred more at various points on the way up. I had one time to get it right and decided to make my last view of the Tour from the King of the Mountains summit. If I had a second time I would pick a location about halfway up where I could see the entire course without my view blocked by the masses. But I don’t regret being at the summit.
We were cold. People were jumping up and down to keep warm and we cheered everyone who came across the summit. Mountain bike. Yeah! Walker. Yeah! Policeman. Yeah! Cheering kept us warm.
One cyclist recognized me from Sunday’s stage. “You were in Santa Rosa.” He thanked me for talking with him there then asked if he rode down 100 yards and came back up if he thought we would cheer for him. I assured him we would. The cyclist goes down 100 yards, turns around, and comes back. Yeahhh!
The police came through followed by a group of four riders followed closely by the peloton. Francisco Mancebo (Rock Racing) was first. Although we were only 8.1 miles from the start, and many riders were grouped, it was surprising to see some real stragglers. I had already started down when another rider came up. I first assumed it was a recreational rider — he was behind the team cars — but it may have been Alejandro Alberto Borrajo (Colavita-Sutter Home). He abandoned today.
The rain picked up and was really coming down. They were very big rain drops, almost hail. I was wet and cold and wasn’t looking forward to my trip down. My pants were weighted down with a camera, cell phone, wallet, and car keys. I could not run but run I did. I started slowly. I didn’t have running shoes — turf shoes that I probably ruined all the little nubbies. My gait was a half stride, because it was downhill and because I couldn’t really run or else my pants would fall down.
I carried the umbrella and fought the wind. It only turned inside out once. I made it down passing lots of people along the way and made it back to the car. Even with an umbrella, I was soaked. Again. But no longer cold. At the lower level, it was near 50° and with wearing two riding jackets I was sweating.
I opened the car, peeled off some of the wet clothes, but really had to go to the bathroom. I found an empty Diet Pepsi bottle and created my first “urine bottle.” The urgency was such that I could not wait.
I then reflected on four days of fun. The Amgen Tour of California is a great event. It will become a major American sport just like the Tour de France is (when soccer becomes as popular as American football) so you better plan to see it while you can still mingle with the parents and girlfriends of the riders, and even meet them at their trailer.
I would like to come back– maybe volunteer at one stage, but not four. Spectating is much more fun. Now if they offered me a position as traveling course marshal — we’ll talk. Especially if Lance comes back next year.
*Actually, with flat and downhill sections in the calculation, perhaps the actual climbing sections may have been 12% or so.
EDIT/EPILOGUE – This was my first urine bottle – ever. I had a headache and lots of body aches on this trip. With 20/20 hindsight, I likely had e.Coli at this time. A few weeks later, I had the same symptoms while officiating at the Jefferson Cup in Richmond, Va. Headaches and fevers continued until May when Dr. Semerjean at George Washington University Hospital finally diagnosed the e.Coli and was able to treat it. He also diagnosed cancer.
But it is likely that on this day, my cancer journey began.
