Sit Down Before Reading, A Memoir: by Dave Bexfield
This initial version of acknowledgements, a living document, features those who aided the writing, research, and production of the memoir. It will be expanded at a future date to better recognize aid received post publication and to properly and publicly thank those who made an outsized impact on the health of humanity. History will remember you.
Craig, a longtime member of ActiveMSers.org, reached out to me as I was penning the final chapters for Sit Down Before Reading. We had had lunch together in Houston years ago shortly after I had gotten a stem cell transplant as part of the promising HALT-MS trial—he had participated in an even earlier version of the clinical trial—and we have stayed in touch ever since. Had I used the Newton quote yet, he asked. I knew exactly which one he was referring to. It’s the brilliant physicist/mathematician’s most famous.
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“If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants,” wrote Sir Isaac Newton in a letter to a fellow scientist dated February 5, 1675, a reference to building on the discoveries of other scientific minds who came before him. Who would have ever guessed that I would have anything in common with Sir Newton? We both suffered bouts of severe psychosis in our early 50s. We’ve both boasted of making some pretty monumental discoveries (his proven, mine technically TBD). And we’ve both written of the importance of standing on shoulders. I wrote this to members of ActiveMSers on November 8, 2018, shortly after returning from what was to be my last trip overseas to date.
A few weeks ago I was in Barcelona, Spain, mesmerized, watching a traditional Catalan castell, or human tower, being built. The biggest members of the group--over 100 strong made up of men, women, and children--form the stout base. Then the tower assembles upward, level after level (the record is 10!), until a small child scales to the top with a final wave. There's a reason UNESCO calls it a masterpiece to be treasured. … The experience made me realize that we optimistic misfits must rely on each other as we build our towers of hope—mustering the motto of castellers: strength, balance, courage, and common sense—in our quest to manage the challenges of our diseases with unwavering resolve.
When I wrote in my memoir that the firm resolve of Lyme advocates mattered, and that all those seemingly futile efforts to expose the Lyme epidemic mattered, I meant that sincerely. None of what I have accomplished would have happened without brave pioneers laying critical groundwork, trailblazers planting essential clues for guidance. None of those sacrifices have been in vain. Indeed, you are all giants with the broadest of shoulders. I and the health of humanity are deeply in your debt.
There are other giants who also deserve recognition.
The Craigs of the world—those who have volunteered for clinical trials to advance the understanding of disease. Without critical data from these trials, solving this puzzle would have been all but impossible.
The Selmas of the world—those heroic health advocates, from Selma Blair to the myriad heroes lifting up those diagnosed with autoimmune disorders and other conditions, giving voice to the oft muted. Without their bullhorns soon to amplify what I’ve exposed, all that I’ve written might get swept away, unnoticed and unread, an artifact for future generations to uncover (and fulfilling Scott’s cynical 200-year prediction).
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President Joe Biden and actress and disability rights activist Selma Blair arrive to an Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) reception on the South Lawn, Monday, October 2, 2023, at the White House.(Official White House Photo by Carlos Fyfe). Public domain.
The Mikes of the world—those we’ve lost to this heinous disease who fought as hard as they could until it all became too much. My heart newly aches for Donna James. We were both diagnosed with MS around the same time, but liver cancer felled her before I could make the connection to the bacterial infection. Without the unsaid but constant reminder of their ultimate sacrifice, I don’t know if I would have had the courage to see this to its conclusion.
The Ross Douthats of the world—those journalists who have exposed, and continue to expose, medical truths that otherwise would have remained buried next to Mr. Hoffa. In-depth articles, investigative reports, and columns concerning mental illness, long Covid, autoimmune disease, Lyme, and more from The New York Times, The Washington Post, and so many other publications, provided invaluable insight to propel my hypotheses. It was Mr. Douthat’s column on his experience with Lyme that broke it open for me, and his personal advice was essential during those early days.
The members of ActiveMSers.org, my friends at HealtheVoices, and participants in other online health communities around the world—those inquisitive patients armed with a wealth of personal experience from diverse backgrounds. That support and belief, from folks who just happened to include tech gurus at world-class laboratories to astrophysicists at the finest institutions, served as motivation to get the science right regardless of the toes that had to be stepped on.
The intrepid scientists of the world—those who are unafraid to buck convention and stand up for what they believe to be true and just: Dr. Steven Phillips, Dr. Alfred Miller, Dr. Alan MacDonald, and so many more. The old saying that science advances one funeral at a time, that it takes researchers with entrenched beliefs to pass away before new ideas foster, doesn’t have to be a truism.
The medical researchers, both past and present, of the world—those who conducted the many studies I used to land on my groundbreaking theories. I am sorry that some of my findings may have dismantled or invalidated portions of your research, but I likely never would have broached some of my discoveries without the critical framework of past research. You all broadly deserve to be recognized.
And the Lauras of the world—those spouses, family members, and caregivers who have had to be powerless witnesses to advancing disability, watching hope bleed away with each sunset. Without their tireless support, I might not be here, my friends might not be here, and this unexpected opportunity for revival might never have happened.
Special thanks must go to the team that helped make this a reality: Kathryn Kean, my enthusiastic and talented sister, who oversaw production and design of SitDownBeforeReading.com as well as the full redesign of ActiveMSers.org; Wyatt Goodell, the newly minted tech-savvy Fort Lewis College grad who managed all aspects of the audiobook to include insightful graphics and broad technical assistance; Randall Doser, the actuary who lent his mathematical expertise to help me crack early conundrums; and Marigold Kitzmiller, the artist and graphic designer newly graduated from the Pratt Institute who designed the book cover.
Among my friends who deserve shout-outs, Confidants #1 and #2 (temporarily nameless) should be showered with praise as they were invaluable safety nets during my 2021 psychosis. Rob the Outdoorsman, Jeff the Best Man, and Buck the Ballplayer all helped keep me grounded with encouragement and faith. And Scott, the Sage Swami of Savants, the first to read the craziest of my discoveries, the first to introduce me to Occam’s razor, and the first to genuinely believe the unbelievable, warrants a toast with another shot of vintage Baijiu. But since our first experience with the Chinese alcohol, generously described as liquid razorblades, went as well as expected, a less caustic toast is in order.
The many doctors who assisted my efforts deserve kudos as well. My primary care physician kept me afloat (with a little help from a Lyme specialist at Columbia University) and Dr. Alternative pitched in as best he could until aid arrived from Lyme guru Dr. Daniel Cameron. Even my skeptical doctors at the University of New Mexico deserve a hat tip despite their apprehension. For the memoir, Dr. Brandon Beaber provided valuable insight with his videos, Dr. Gavin Giovannoni with his research, Dr. Terry Wahls with her diet interventions, and Dr. Barry Marshall with his inspiration.
There are so many others to acknowledge, from the Breaking Bad team to my physical and occupational therapists (Janelle and Ivy Rose) to all the dear friends who patiently listened to me as I prattled on (ranging from neighbors who provided levity to faithful high school buds who checked in regularly). I can’t leave out old acquaintances (Joe the barber) or new ones (George R.R. Martin) or new-to-me old ones (like Regina of Iowa, a long-time follower who recently sent me my first old-fashioned fan mail in the form of a card—featuring a smiling toilet saying “turn crappy into happy”). And so many others, including all of those who shared personal stories that helped bring this book to life. Plus, my high school teachers Mr. Kokonis and Dr. Patel, and the trove of talented musicians, singers, writers, actors, and artists who inspired me in incalculable ways.
This is a partial list of thank yous, as I am sure there have been oversights that will be corrected in time. I couldn’t have accomplished any of this, though, without the unwavering support of my fellow castellers, the anchors being Mom and Dad, and, of course, my wife Laura. I would shower her with praise, but ever the scientist, she would insist that I wait for confirming research to back up my findings before she would feel comfortable accepting any credit.
So, I’m waiting. For as long as it takes.
