science

LU Here I Come

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Although the surgery in Cleveland wasn’t successful I succeeded in becoming a student at Lakehead University in Thunder Bay in September of 1977. Some of my friends started university that year. I wanted to try university. Since I had been out of school for more than three years for reasons beyond my control Lakehead University allowed me to take at least one course. If I did reasonably well I could register in a program at LU the following September as a mature student. My goal was to get into the Bachelor of Science (BSc) in Biology program. I enrolled in first year calculus, a requisite course, and Astronomy, a science elective. I could drive myself to classes but I worried the walk from the parking lot to lectures would be too far for me. It was a bit of a hike at first but with practice it became routine.

The high school correspondence courses had provided me with all the education I needed for university except Chemistry. I took a non-credit course at LU as well which taught high school plus some first year university chemistry. There I met Terry. He was from Toronto and had a BA in Psychology from the University of Toronto. He came to Thunder Bay to take a Masters degree in Psychology and also to study science. We quickly became good friends. Terry had a wild streak in him. He was eight years older than me and had seen much more of the world. Terry possessed a natural propensity for making friends many of whom I got to know.

I was still finding my way out of the house when Terry took me under his wing. He made sure I got out to experience the world. Terry took me to a bar one night and got me drunk. I could barely stand up. Another time he set me up with a date, Anna, a nursing student. Our date didn’t lead to second but she and I liked it when crossed paths at LU. Terry knew how to throw some great parties all of which I remember well. He was also licensed to fly small planes. Now and againTerry rented a Cessna C127 from the Thunder Bay Flying Club and take me up flying. When the plane was in level flight he let me steer. I felt so free and in control of myself as I flew the plane over Thunder Bay and the countryside. The coolest was to see my house from 10,000 feet up. When we landed I was eager for our next flight.

I squeaked through Calculus with 51% and got a respectable 68% in Astronomy. My marks were good enough to make me a university student in September of 1978. I have to say that Dad’s encouragement and his affiliation with Lakehead University as Professor of Medical Laboratory Sciences had a lot to do with my chance to try out for LU.

I enrolled in the Biology program at Lakehead University as a part time student and took three credits. Full time students take five. Mom and Dad thought that three courses would be all I could handle. They were right. My writing was still slower than average. The amount of reading required for just those three courses overtaxed my eyes. Sometimes I came back from LU after classes and asked Mom if she would read a section of the textbook to me. We sat at the dining room table across from each other just as we did for high school and she read the textbook as I covered my eyes with my hands to rest them. I passed my courses and together with the two I’d taken the previous year I had the five credits I needed to complete the first year of the Biology program requirements.

I took a course in the spring and another in the summer. These were intensive full courses that went five hours a day Monday to Friday. It was a gruelling overload of information each day. But the classes were small, we helped each other and I earned a credit in just six weeks.

Armed with my two second year credits I registered for another three courses in the fall. In April of 1980, I completed the second year of the program.  Once more I took a course in each of the spring and summer terms.

During that summer I had to say good-bye to Terry. For the three years he was in Thunder Bay Terry was a regular around my home. His colourful personality filled the house as soon as he walked in the door. Terry was my good and constant companion during his time in Thunder Bay. With his MA degree in hand Terry bought an old car. He packed all his belongings in it, which were not much more than his clothes and guitar, and headed off on his next adventure. I missed him when he left. Terry moved west to Edmonton, got married and settled down.

In September I started the last three courses for the BSc degree. At the convocation ceremony on May 31, 1981, I received a BSc degree in Biology from Lakehead University. I had accomplished what some people thought I would never live to do.

I wanted to continue on to become a graduate student and earn a Master of Science (MSc) degree in Biology. I had to have an Honours BSc (HBSc) to do that. I needed a course average of at least 70% to get into the honours or forth year, but I pulled up short with 68%. I was determined. I studied for another year at LU as a full time student to get a four year BSc pass degree in Biology in May, 1982.

Four years of university had taught me about plants, animals, anatomy and physiology, but I still didn’t have a skill to find work. In September of 1982, I enrolled in the two year Medical Laboratory Technologist diploma program at the Thunder Bay Institute of Medical Technology. It was a requirement for the HBSc in Medical Laboratory Sciences program at Lakehead University. In May, 1984, I received my diploma and enrolled in the HBSc program at LU. I had all the courses for the degree from my BSc in Biology except the core courses. In a year and a half I had an HBSc in Medical Laboratory Sciences. I set my sights on the MSc in Biology degree.

I enrolled in the Master of Science in Biology program at LU in September, 1984, and worked as a teaching assistant. The pay wasn’t great but it paid my tuition and gave me some pocket money. On graduation day in May of 1986, I received my MSc degree in Biology. I walked in procession into the convocation hall. When I stopped I had a front row seat in front of the podium. Dr. David Suzuki addressed the graduates. He talked about how hard we worked to earn our degrees and that we should take pride what we had achieved. Next Farley Mowat spoke. As I listened I was transported back to the desperate times of 1973 and the evenings I lay tucked into bed listening to Dad reading his stories. I clearly realized then just how far I had come. I held my MSc degree knowing how hard I had worked for it, how determined I had stayed and how much adversity I had overcome to attain my goal. I was definitely proud of my achievement.

While I was a Teaching Assistant I thought I would like to teach in a university. To do that I needed a Doctor of Philosophy (PhD) degree, but LU didn’t have a PhD program. In the fall after I graduated with my MSc degree Dad was invited to speak at a conference. He met a former colleague from London, Ontario, who knew of an opportunity. He suggested that I could work at St. Joseph’s Hospital lab in London where he worked. I could try some courses at the University of Western Ontario in London and possibly get into a PhD program.

During the year after I graduated with my MSc I applied for work in the medical labs in all the hospitals in Thunder Bay but to no avail. The opportunity Dad’s colleague in London proposed seemed better and better as the months passed. London offered me both a job in a medical lab and a chance to earn a PhD.

I planned on moving to London in late August of 1987 but I was faced with a challenge once again. I woke up one morning just before the move to discover that I was completely deaf in my right ear. When I had my hearing tested I was told that my deafness was caused by damage to the auditory nerve. They couldn’t offer a solution to the problem. I didn’t know until then that my tumour and the radiation therapy damaged the myelin sheath around the nerve. The damage impaired its function and started a progressive hearing loss. I carried on hearing only through my left ear.

Despite the loss of hearing in my right ear I packed my belongings and moved to London. I enrolled in a physiology course at Western and started part time work at St. Joseph’s Hospital. I worked there for two and a half years as a technologist in the hospital medical laboratory with a great group of people. After three years of trying I was no closer to getting into a doctoral program at Western than when I had first travelled to London. The professors I approached about doing a PhD with them kept citing their lack of research funds.

In June, 1990, I moved back to Thunder Bay with my tail between my legs. The London experience was the first time a lot of work and perseverance didn’t get me to where I wanted to go. I was burned out. I couldn’t push anymore. There was some good that came out of my tenure in London. It was a time of much personal growth. I lived by myself independent of my parents. And I clearly demonstrated that I could organize my life and take care of myself. After all I was 30 years old.

When I got back from London Dad had a plan. He proposed that we should start an environmental laboratory business. I had the chemistry skills and Dad was confident I could do it. We took a chance and created Tara Scientific Laboratories.

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Something Had To Be Done

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When the eye surgeon in Thunder Bay examined me in August, 1966, he also found that I was going blind in my left eye since I wasn’t using it. Mom had noticed this as well. She suggested to the eye surgeon that I should wear a patch over the right eye a few hours a day to make me use the left eye so I would regain the sight in it. The eye surgeon didn’t think this would work. Mom persisted. She made me wear a patch over my right eye for two hours every evening and got my teacher to make me wear it for two hours daily during class. I regained the sight in my left eye over six months.

I started Grade 3 in September, 1966, at St. Bernard’s when Catharine began Kindergarten. I liked being a big brother and proudly walked her to school until she was older and joined her friends. We met up with each other at home for lunch and often walked back to school together. I liked running into her in the school yard at recess or when school was out.

We watched out for each other during the four years both of us attended St. Bernard’s. One time Catharine slipped on the ice in the playground and sprained her arm. She was in a sling for two weeks and I walked with her into her classroom to help her with her coat. Another time Catharine saw a boy grab a ball away from me. She wouldn’t have it. She went straight up to him to retrieve my ball and got it. Catharine was always tougher than me in that way.

In July, 1969, Mom took me to Ireland, England and France to visit relatives. I don’t know why Dad and Catharine didn’t come. It seemed strange leaving them at home and I missed them.

We had just arrived at our hotel in Dublin when I decided to turn on the radio on the bedside table. I heard Walter Cronkite saying, “six … five … four … three … two … one …… lift off, we have lift off …” Apollo 11 roared from the launch pad.

Four days later I was at Aunt Gertie’s home, Mom’s sister, in Corofin on the farm where Mom was born and raised. This was the first time in my life I remember living in the same house with my Aunts, Uncles and cousins. We ate together, talked for hours and I befriended my cousins as we played. We sat in front of a small TV set to watch the dramatic first lunar landing and hear Neil Armstrong’s famous words, “The Eagle has landed.”

The lunar landing brought to life one of my favourite TV shows in the 1960s, Star Trek. Following Capt. Kirk, Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy as they zoomed through the galaxy on their adventures captured all my imagination. By September of 1970, the crew of the Enterprise had finished their journey, but at 11 years old, mine was only beginning.

Like Dad I enjoyed working with my hands designing and building things. When I had just turned ten Dad bought a set of Do-It-Yourself encyclopedias. He and I looked through them for a project to do.

The encyclopedias had plans for a working hover craft. It was a big challenge for me at 10 years old to carefully draw all the pieces as specified in the book, cut them out of balsa wood and glue them together. When it was finished I had a 7”x4” hover craft 3” tall. I painted it silver and red with cellophane windows at the front and an airplane tail on the back. It was a really nifty looking job. Dad helped me mount a small electric motor vertically in it. I put a propeller from a toy boat of mine onto the drive shaft.

We made a box with an on/off switch to house two D cell batteries to power the motor. When I turned it on the propeller produced enough down draft to lift the hover craft up to glide over a four sheet stack of paper. I felt as if I was on my own trek of creation – an engineer like Scotty.

I entered the hover craft in the Science Fair competition at St. Bernard’s and won. Then it was off to the bigger Science Fair at the Faculty of Education building at Lakehead University. There I was up against older kids with more impressive projects and I didn’t advance. I was heartbroken. I put my heart and soul into that hover craft as I did with most things. Dad was philosophical about it. I had given the Science Fair my best effort and that’s what counted. He was right but my pride was still bruised.

The next project Dad and I built from the Do-It-Yourself encyclopedias was a wood lathe. I had just turned eleven. It was mounted on a 4×1½ ft. plywood base and driven by an old electric washing machine motor. I turned two bowls on that lathe which I stained and gave to Mom. They sat on the kitchen counter for years holding fruit and mail.

During the year I was eleven I started to become dizzy and lightheaded when I tumbled during gym class or lay flat on my back. Sometimes I was nauseous. Once I became dizzy it lasted all day.

Several times I woke up from a sound sleep and held my mouth as I tried to run to the toilet to throw up. Mom and Dad rushed to the bathroom to help me in any way they could. All they could do was be there to console me as I threw up. The first few times this happened I was frightened.

“What’s happening to me?”

Mom and Dad didn’t have an answer. Maybe my head fell off the pillow and I had a dizzy spell. That seemed like the most plausible explanation. Once the episode of nausea was over, and I regained my breath, they gave me a face cloth to wipe my mouth and a glass of water to drink. Then they guided me back to bed. My head would be swimming and I was seldom fit to go to school the next day. My parents took me to see our family doctor but he didn’t have an answer either.

Just after my twelfth birthday my parents had a photographic portrait of me made – a family tradition (a rite of passage). In it I sported a Mona Lisa smile which looked pleasant enough but it was as big a smile as I could make at the time. Throughout that summer I started to have trouble swallowing. My sense of balance was getting poor, my speech was starting to slur and I had lost the ability to expand my chest as I was only diaphragm breathing – and my facial muscles were becoming paralysed. My parents’ concern grew as they watched my health decline. By August Mom and Dad decided that there was something seriously wrong with me. Something had to be done.