or, Coming to a close

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PASSAGES
· montrealgazette.com · W e d n e s d ay, December 15, 2010
“I want to thank the Alouettes for everything they’ve done. You have
no idea how much of a booster they have been to me.” Tony Proudfoot
My time has come
(or, Coming to a close)
tony Proudfoot’s farewell: ”I’ve been blessed with so much love and support, it is truly
overwhelming. The concern and compassion everyone has afforded me is amazing, unfathomable.”
Tony Proudfoot
Special to The Gazette
“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things.”
– Lewis Carroll,
Through the Looking Glass
T
he last time I wrote for The
Gazette, in April 2010, I was
anticipating that I might not
make it to another Christmas. Here
it is, early December, same year, and
my circumstances are certainly
clearer. As the Walrus says, “The
time has come” literally and figuratively, and I would like to “talk of
many things.”
Why has ALS come into my life?
What can I do with my body as it
slowly deteriorates? When will my
time actually be, given that ALS is a
definitive death sentence? These are
all thoughts that come to mind.
Focusing on my next breath requires all of my energy. I am starved
of air and oxygen and need to rely
on a ventilator just to feel stable, just
to live. I am now on my ventilator up
to 22 hours per day, often going off
one, to walk slowly to another room
to attach myself to another.
At the beginning, without any
answers and none forthcoming, I
chose to take the high road and be
as positive as I could possibly be and
live the life I had left to the fullest. I
also worked hard to raise awareness
of ALS and support research into
its cause and elimination. To date,
more than half a million dollars has
been raised for the ALS Tony Proudfoot Fund that may someday help
the thousands of people in Canada
who are dying. Unfortunately, there
are no concrete results that can help
me yet. Research efforts have moved
forward significantly. I am very
proud of that.
So, in the twilight of my life, I’ve
been asked to reflect on my plight.
First, let me say how great the
Alouettes were this year, Grey Cup
champs once again and a huge part
of my “up” days and enjoyment.
They are a hard habit to kick, and
my 40-year association with them in
a variety of capacities, from player
to coach, game analyst, broadcaster
and now chief cheerleader (I wore
my good luck Als tuque from the ’74
Cup, during this year’s game) has
been a fantastic run.
I want to thank the Alouettes for
everything they’ve done. You have
no idea how much of a booster they
have been to me. What can you say
about people like Marc Trestman
and Ben Cahoon, who came to visit
me independently, just days after
winning the Big One, to share their
excitement and thoughts on the
game and the whole experience?
Ben even gave me his Grey Cup
Champion hat! My broadcast partner Rick Moffat stopped by with a
Grey Cup football, excellent!
They all knew I so wanted to be
there with them, and to partake in
their joy. Those who visited let me
do it through osmosis. How about
the support of special people like
Anthony Calvillo and Davis Sanchez
and literally dozens of others, way
too numerous to name, but not to forget?
I know this will be my last Decem-
John Mahoney the gazette
Tony Proudfoot holds the Hugh Campbell Distinguished Leadership Award, presented to him by Canadian Football League commissioner Mark
Cohon (right) prior to the Eastern Division Final between the Montreal Alouettes and Toronto Argonauts at Olympic Stadium on Nov. 21.
ber update. Right now, I’m hanging
on for Christmas, and it’s a tough
slog and not a guarantee.
Let’s recap the last few years of
articles:
In May of 2007, my wife, Vicki, and
I received the devastating, terrifying
news that I have Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS), a terminal illness that typically runs its course in
three to five years. That was not quite
four years ago, and I now know I will
not reach that five-year plateau. I put
together my personal bucket list, not
in selfish terms of travelling or seeing wonders of the world, but more
personal. Four goals:
No. 1: Support my wife and family
and relish in their love and support.
No. 2: Make the relationships I have
better, by being responsive to every
friend, acquaintance and individual
and each issue.
No. 3: Make a difference in ALS
awareness and improve fundraising efforts.
No. 4: A very personal, positive
mantra: Suck it up and get on with
life (remember, no whining allowed!)
and enjoy every day. What other option do any of us really have?
I can proudly say I’ve accomplished, and perhaps even overachieved, in each of these projects.
In December 2008, I penned
an article for The Gazette titled
One Year Later (give or take a few
months). I was dealing with the
early reality of this cruel and insidious disease. My voice was deteriorating, my ability to eat and swallow
was already beginning to cause a
few issues and the hint of breathing
problems was starting to manifest.
Initially, it didn’t seem too much of
a worry, as these matters were not
affecting my ability to participate in
the activities I have always loved.
December 2009 brought The
Black Night of the Holy Grail. You’ll
recall in the movie that Arthur,
“King of the Britons,” commands
the Black Knight to step aside, and
when he refuses he cuts off his right
arm. When the Knight says the blow
is but a scratch and that he’s had
worse, King Arthur cuts his left arm
off. The Knight ignores it, not giving
up, and asks the King if he’s had
enough. Eventually, with his legs
also gone, the Black Knight says:
“My family has been
absolutely amazing
and friends have been
terrifically uplifting.”
Tony Proudfoot
“All right, we’ll call it a draw!”
I have been fighting like that. ALS
continued to ravage me, and my
body did not quite function as it had.
My ability to talk was gone; I had a
plastic tube feeding me and a tracheotomy, breathing hose. My mouth,
nose and throat all abandoned me,
except for drooling and, thank goodness, smiling!
April 2010 chronicled a metaphor
from Samuel Beckett and his Waiting for Godot, i.e. Waiting for Death.
I spent weeks in hospital at various
stages with severe infections and an
exhausting battle with pneumonia.
My golfing was over and much of my
mobility was now curtailed. At the
time, I wrote: “Believe me, I wish no
one should have to go through any
day of those four months, ever, ever,
ever. I’m a strapping, tough, strongminded, independent man. I can endure a ton, and it nevertheless beat
the hell out of me. As much as I went
through, I cannot fathom what my
wife, Vicki, and my kids, Michael,
Lindsay and Lauren, went through.
They are champions.”
Let’s jump forward to the present
day, December 2010. Well, I am still
here, hanging by my finger nails
while my toes are touching rock
bottom and I can feel them getting
a foothold. I am proud I have continued championing my goals. My
family has been absolutely amazing
and friends have been terrifically
uplifting. ALS research support
continues (please donate) and I have
been toughing it out. My Alouettes
kept me buoyed with their outstanding accomplishments.
I write and speak about this disease and my adventure in positive,
forward-looking phrases and people
see it as courageous and even heroic. But living the reality has been
awful and downright frightening
for me and my family.
I have chosen to write about it as
a method of informing and educating as many people as I can. I want
to thank Gazette sports editor Stu
Cowan for his encouragement and
especially for giving me this forum.
Greater awareness and financial
contributions for ALS research
may someday be enough that the
thousands who become afflicted
with this malicious, sinister fate
might have some hope. I would also
like my attitude and approach to be
an aid and beacon to everyone that
you should live your life as fully as
you can, every day.
That, my friends, is the only hope
for the thousands of Canadians
struck with ALS and thousands
more who will contract it. To make
a contribution right now, please go
to www.sla-quebec.ca, then go to the
link for the Tony Proudfoot Fund.
Thank you so much.
There may be one more missive
from me, posthumously, through
the proverbial ghostwriter so that
you know my struggle has ended.
I’ve been blessed with so much love
and support it is truly overwhelming. The concern and compassion
everyone has afforded me is amazing, unfathomable.
Goodbyes are never easy, in my
case they have been the hardest. But
I’m working my way through them
with the deepest, heartfelt thanks I
can muster.
Do not worry about me; my incredible network will bolster and
steel me for the very imminent inevitable. I so appreciate everyone’s
support.
Please remember,
Love Tony
[email protected]
Barista-ballerina living a dream after readers pitch in to help her out
Susan Schwartz
THE GAZETTE
A story in yesterday’s Gazette about
the kindness toward an aspiring
young dancer shown by people who
have never met her has led to more
kindness from more strangers.
Twenty-year-old Vancouver native Raquel Lanziner, a barista
at the Second Cup on Greene Ave.
and a student at the École supérieure de ballet contemporain de
Montréal had injured her back severely enough that she’d stopped
dancing. Only an MRI would determine what was causing the pain,
but the wait in the public healthcare system could be a year and she
didn’t have the $600 a private MRI
would cost.
Anita Nowak, a regular at the coffee shop who was charmed by Lanziner’s sweet disposition, wanted to
help. She co-hosts a holiday party
each year at which guests are asked
to bring no gifts for their hosts,
but instead to donate cash (in an
envelope so no one knows the size
of anyone else’s contribution) to
a non-profit organization chosen
at random from among those they
themselves suggest. This year, the
47 guests at the Dec. 3 party contributed $1,675 to the David Suzuki
Foundation.
On learning of Lanziner’s situation just days later, Nowak emailed
the other guests to ask permission
to give her $600 for the MRI. Absolutely, they responded. A story in
yesterday’s paper described how
Nowak turned up at the Second
Cup on Monday morning and presented her with the money, how
Lanziner was overwhelmed and
how, after embraces and some
tears, Nowak headed across the
street to find a parking ticket on
the windshield.
The story struck a chord with
readers, among them a Montreal
entrepreneur who wants to remain anonymous who emailed me
to say he’d make up the $600 to the
David Suzuki Foundation – and pay
Nowak’s parking ticket. “What cap-
tured me was the spirit of pay it forward/pay it back,” he wrote.
Montreal physician Sheldon
Elman, CEO of the Medisys Health
Group, called to offer an MRI for
Lanziner at no charge.
Physician Jeffrey Brock, CEO of a
company called MedExtra, emailed
to offer to review Lanziner’s MRI
and propose a treatment plan, also
at no charge.
And Sgt. David Sedgwick of Westmount Public Security emailed
Nowak: “In the spirit of the season,
and to keep the ‘good karma’ intact,
I’d like to offer to take back the parking ticket that you received,” he
wrote.
At 1 p.m., Lanziner was at the
Medvue MRI Scan Centre, the medical imaging company affiliated
with Medisys, for an MRI. Elman
phoned her later with the results: a
herniated disc, which she is confident can be managed with rest and
other conservative treatment. Today, Lanziner is scheduled to be on
a flight home to Vancouver for the
holidays.
“Honestly,” she said last night,
“yesterday and today feels like a
dream. I feel like I haven’t been in
real life.” As for the kindness of
those strangers, she said she’ll find
a way to “pay it forward – and pay it
back.”
[email protected]