My vision is to raise awareness , through cycling and running , that TB is a fully treatable and curable disease . To do that I will participate in a minimum of one marathon or ultra as well as a road cycling race every month , and for every kilometre I cover in races , a sponsored food parcel will be donated to TB sufferers , provided they take their prescribed medication every day . ( To get me through this challenge , my training programme will be provided by Sean Tait of Off the Mark .)

HEALTH ISSUES

So how did I get to this point ? It goes back to 1989 , when I became ill and just didn ’ t get better . Going to GP ’ s with regular monotony , I had unexplained symptoms – my immune system was down , a cough that was not getting better , progressive increase of mucus , respiratory tract infections , weight-loss , night sweats and a general feeling of tiredness and weakness . All classic symptoms of tuberculosis , I realised later ,

but all the doctors I saw diagnosed bronchitis , or asthma , or flu , and prescribed inhalers , antibiotics and painkillers ... so much medication that I could have opened my own pharmacy !

It became increasingly difficult to participate in sport , especially running , as my chest would burn , breathing was difficult , and my legs felt like lead , but I kept plodding along . Then one Saturday morning , after finishing a half marathon with much duress , I went round to my mom for our traditional post-race breakfast , but started to feel light-headed and collapsed . I was rushed to the doctor and he said the symptoms looked like TB . My mother was extremely angry : How dare he say her son had TB ? Like many others , she thought TB is a disease that exists only in poor communities , a common misconception .

TESTING AND TREATMENT

The doctor took sputum , urine and blood samples to do a TB culture , and X-rays showed that I had a “ black spot ” on my lung . And so the long wait began for the test results . As a precautionary measure I was isolated from my children and the outside world , and not allowed to go to work , and my family had to go for chest X-rays to check if they too were infected . Meanwhile , my mother was my ‘ Florence Nightingale .’ I went to stay with her , and she took the risk of looking after me during my contagious period . For two long weeks , which felt like an eternity , my mind swirled with questions : How did I get TB ? Could I have given

this to someone else ? Is it fatal ? Then came the results … Positive .

It took a further six weeks until I was started on anti-TB medication through the State Public Health TB Programme . My first appointment was at Brooklyn Chest Hospital , where they assigned a sister who would visit every morning to apply DOT ( Direct Observation Treatment ) Therapy , but my mom insisted that she would take care of me . True to her word , she was there every morning , as regular as clockwork , for breakfast and then medication . I can still clearly remember her words : “ My child , you must take your tablets . You do want to get better , don ’ t you ?”

The treatment was difficult in the beginning . I can remember just how weak I was . I could barely work , always so drowsy and tired , had lost my appetite … and the tablets made me feel nauseous . Six tablets daily , the size of suppositories , difficult to swallow . Even getting dressed became a chore , and sleep became my favourite pastime . Obviously , my running became non-existent . I could barely tie my shoelaces , let alone run around the block ! I was too tired to stand for even short periods of time , and when I went to the funeral of a dear friend , I collapsed in the church . Even worse , when friends and acquaintances heard that I had TB , many looked at me so very differently . Some even shunned me . It was difficult to explain to them that I was no longer contagious once I was on the

Images : Courtesy Neal Stacey