12/17/2003
North San Diego and Sout West Riverside County
By: ERIKA AYN FINCH - For the North County Times
VALLEY CENTER ---- Bob Dennis sits in his wheelchair in a bedroom filled with pictures of the northern lights. He patiently waits while his mother shaves his face with an electric razor. He flirts and he laughs and he talks about traveling all over the Southwest.
It's hard to imagine that Dennis, 49, is dying from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, commonly referred to as "Lou Gehrig's disease," after the baseball great diagnosed with the illness in 1939. The disease progressively attacks nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord.
Victims eventually die when the motor neurons, which send messages from the brain to the muscles in the body, degenerate. Once the motor neurons die, all voluntary muscle action is affected and patients become totally paralyzed, even though most remain mentally cognizant. Patients tend to die from respiratory failure.
That day will come for Dennis.
"The first thing people assume is that I am in pain, but I'm not," Dennis said Tuesday in his Valley Center home. "I can feel everything, but I don't have a connection between my mind and muscles. So many people act like American tourists around me in that they talk loud and slow, but I understand everything around me."
And understanding the critical need for research into the disease, Dennis has decided to help raise funds for the ALS Association by participating in the San Diego Marathon in Carlsbad on Jan. 18. As part of the charity portion of the marathon, 26 teams of Dennis' friends, family and even strangers touched by the disease will take turns pushing Dennis through the race, each team taking one mile at a time. The teams will collect pledges that will be donated to the association.
Lori Butler, president of the Greater San Diego chapter of the ALS Association, persuaded Dennis to participate in the race. She said 55,000 people have ALS at any given time and most patients die within three years of diagnosis.
While most develop the disease between ages 40 and 70, people as young as 20 have been diagnosed.
So far, there is no cure for the disease and the cause is unknown, though Dennis has a form ---- familial ALS ---- that is considered hereditary and has been tracked to chromosome 21. His mother's cousin died from the disease in the 1970s.
Dennis said he plans to do the marathon in his wheelchair, but intends to step across the finish line without its assistance. Several members of his team will lift him up and help him across the line.
"It feels so good when I stand that I am looking forward to standing again with four or five people helping me do that," Dennis said.
The last time he was able to walk unassisted was spring.
It was fall 2001 when Dennis first knew something was wrong. A fleet sales manager in Los Angeles, he realized he was losing strength in his hand. He was having a hard time turning the ignition switch in his car and holding his guitar pick. He thought he had a pinched nerve.
"I used to have to run back and forth to get keys for the cars and then take the keys out to the cars," Dennis said, his voice muffled due to the advanced stage of his illness. "I was coming back from getting the keys and I fell down. It was the last time I ever ran."
In summer 2002, Dennis was diagnosed with ALS. He decided to take a vacation to one of his favorite spots, Zion National Park in Utah, and also organized a last "hoorah" with family and friends in Cancun.
Last spring, Dennis began using a wheelchair. He also began having a difficult time speaking. He moved in with his mother, Jeanette Nelson, who now devotes most of her time to the care of her son with the help of Bob's siblings and his two ex-wives, Jeani Stevens and Susie Dennis.
"I wouldn't be comfortable or socially active if not for my mom," Dennis said. "I am flattered and humbled over all my friends and family. There are over 100 people who volunteer to do something for me. Because of them I go to the movies, on trips and to parties. I am very fortunate because most ALS people don't have that kind of support."
But it's Dennis' support network that claims they are the lucky ones.
"He's not the one being blessed," said Jeani Stevens, Dennis' first ex-wife and the mother of his two children. "It's a blessing for everyone who is involved in his life. He has to deal with our fears every day."
Dennis said he had a difficult time dealing with his diagnosis but has learned to accept it. He jokes about not having to feel guilty about not flossing his teeth or that he never did a good job saving for his retirement.
He claims his voice is still easier to understand than that of rock musician Ozzy Osbourne. But he becomes serious when he talks about what he misses the most, such as no longer being able to play guitar in his Jethro Tull tribute band, and not being around to watch his granddaughters, ages 5 and 1, grow up.
"I miss not being able to pick up my grandkids and fly them overhead," Dennis said.
Dennis' family speaks openly about Dennis' death and Dennis himself calmly acknowledges the inevitable.
"There is only one difference between you and I," Dennis said. "We are all going to die, but I now know when and how.
