Take 2 Sims & Call Me in the Morning - By William "BBall" Ball
Webster's dictionary defines "therapy" as: "treatment of illness (esp. without using medicine). With that said one might ask, "what does that have to do with flight simulations?" Well, for many of us probably nothing at all, but for those of us that have (unfortunately) been the recipient of a physician's regular attention, it just may mean more than we've stopped to realize.
Without boring you with all the "medical school" explanations, suffice to say that roughly a year ago my life changed when my family doctor accidentally discovered a rather large tumor hiding out in my chest. He discovered it in November '99, it was biopsyed the next month, was removed in August of '00, and finally (to kill any cells that may have been left) I underwent radiation and chemotherapy treatments that ended six weeks ago. Am I out of the woods? One would think that after going under the knife for several hours, then being bombarded with radiation every day for six weeks, and finally watching as bags of poison was "uploaded" into a vein for days on end, the chance of this thing reoccurring would be miniscule. Unfortunately, this type of tumor is extremely rare, and very little is known about it's behavior (meaning no involved medical studies)….so only time will tell.
Again, you may ask, "what the hell does being going through this mess and flying flight sims have in common?" With that question, let me ask you one? Have you ever walked in the door from a long, grueling day at the office (or classroom, etc), and just needed to do something to "escape"? Did you plop down in front of the PC to do some flying? I bet if you're like most people that love fight sims, you have…. and to the "eye rolling" spouse, and/or the bewildered kids, it looked like a simple case of "daddy's whacko and loves cyber airplanes too much". What they failed to realize was that you were getting some "therapy". Maybe it was flaming that pesky Zero, or sending that SAM site crew to "missile hell", or even just flying a REALLY good ILS to minimums in a snowstorm…. whatever the case, it felt good right? You bet it did ( you didn't even feel like kicking the dog anymore).
I guess my personal journey of discovering just how much these funny little computer disks have helped in the last year, began in a hospital bed two days before Christmas '99. I had gone in for a "simple" biopsy to reveal the nature of the afore mentioned tumor, and after having been briefed on the procedure, was informed that I would be getting out of the funny little "no butt" gown they made me put on, and heading home in a couple of hours max. That wasn't to be. I would end up seeing Christmas from the inside of a hospital ward…and that's never a good thing.
Due to the location of the mass, the Drs had to insert the biopsy needle through the right lung; this of course created two holes called pneumothoraxes (several in fact, for they had to insert it into the mass from different directions). BTW, the guy that was supposed to give me all the good drugs so it wouldn't hurt was busy with an infant…I got a "local" and had to "just bear with us here". The "hole" thing had all been briefed, and again knowing that I was a non-smoker, exercised regularly, and was in good health, everyone was looking to boot my ass out of the door quickly when it was over. For some unexplained reason, after four hours the holes had not closed up, so I was admitted. I found myself (for the very first time) lying in a hospital bed with a chest tube dangling out of my right side, but feeling pretty good considering. If you've never had the pleasure of a hospital stay, just think of it as a VERY bad hotel room. The TV has four channels, you have a bed that only a cadaver could get comfortable in, the food is unbelievably bad, you can't go to the crapper without an act of congress, and there are people that wake you up to give you your sleeping pill (not exactly that bad…the nurses are actually heroes). In other words, it sucks big time.
So what DO you do as you watch the clock make it's rounds? Well, the long and short of it is you think a lot. Yep, you get to become intimately acquainted with that person in your head, and let me tell you, that can be a scary thing sometimes. Funny the things you can think about in a hospital bed. (I've had the pleasure of two more stays since the one mentioned above; once for the surgery, and once due to a reaction from the chemotherapy and radiation). During the stay after the surgery, and the realization that I didn't die sunk in, I was left with several days of just lying there wondering all sorts of things. Things like; "why didn't the surgeon give me the cool "lightning bolt" scar like I asked?" "when is that next shot of "sister morphine" gonna kick in?", "I wonder if we get the orange jello tonight?", and then you get to ponder the more mundane things like; "was the thing they took out of my chest malignant?", "if it was, then does that mean I have cancer?", "if I do, will chemotherapy and radiation help?" and of course what seemed to be the biggest question that I just couldn't shake, "will I ever see the 757 cockpit again?". Most of the things you think of while lying around with IVs and tubes hanging out of you are less than pleasant.
Well then, how do you keep your sanity there in that horizontal prison? You get that guy in your head to start thinking about the things that make you happy; things that make you relax and have that "warm and fuzzy" feeling. As Adam Sandler was fond of saying in the movie Happy Gilmore, "go to your happy place". This of course meant family, friends, and (yes) at times flight sims. I can remember many sleepless nights when the ugly thoughts of "holy shit, I could have cancer" started to drift in, and I would drive them out by mentally planning a strike mission in Falcon 4.0, recalling the procedures for entering the "marshall stack" in F/A-18, or mulling over the intricacies of the perfect break at the merge...lots and lots of things like that, and they were a "life saver". It's amazing how many potentially ugly thoughts can be held at bay with a few hours of the cranial version of "hangar flying".
When the chemo/radiation roller coaster began this last October, I was suddenly shown that for my entire life, I had felt good. I may not have been aware of my general good health, but when "feeling good" is suddenly replaced by months of "feeling like crap", it became apparent that I've led a very healthy life. If the radiation effects were long in coming (a thing called esophagitis…basically like a sunburn on your esophagus, hit me about two months into the process), the chemo could NOT be called innocuous by any means. Everything you're ever heard or read about it is true. It makes you feel like the south end of a north bound mule, like you've eaten a really bad burrito and it just won't go away, of course all your hair falls out (mine is just coming back), food smells good, but tastes bad, and finally you get the distinct pleasure of having a taste in your mouth that can only be described as "sucking on pennies 24/7". So not much gets your mind off of just how shitty you feel, and sitting in one of the little "chemo cubicles" leaves you nothing to do but think about how it's all gonna start again. You know what worked well for me? Bringing along that "War and Peace" manual from Falcon 4.0…if that won't take your mind off of stuff, then brother, nothing will (except maybe a GOOD picture of Denise Richards :).
The hours when you feel good enough to take that Apache on a Search and Destroy mission, or that Bf-109 up after the "dicke autos" (allied bombers), or getting that Hornet back on deck, can be a godsend. That Viper, FW190, Ka-52 or whatever doesn't give a damn if your hair is all burned away by the chemo, you feel like puking up your dinner, or your throat hurts so bad that EVEN A BEER won't go down. It only cares that you become the pilot that the aircraft/mission requires…and sometimes that's all you need. Keeping that SAM from separating you from your aircraft, putting that iron on target, or just getting your Spitfire on that Stuka's ass can make all the difference in the world of your ATTITUDE. I know, I've been there.
So maybe I'm left wondering if some day, Drs will be prescribing a few hours of "flight simming" as therapy to help cure the doldrums after surgery, or help with the ugly feelings during chemotherapy, etc,. Most probably not, but then again, who knows? It has been said that an intricate part of beating any form of disease is a person's attitude. I have to feel that mine has been generally good for the last year or so (OK Frug… so I was whiny a time or two on ICQ), maybe better than most and not as good as some. So if they're right, and attitude is king, then I have NO DOUBT that flight sims were in some part responsible for putting a crown on this bald head of mine.
Later,
BBall
Addendum: This ramble wouldn't be complete without mentioning the human side to this crazy hobby of ours. Yes, I've had family and longtime friends write/call/visit to show concern and such, but that's to be expected. What has really astounded me in the last year has been the level of support from within the flight sim community. Not only from my good friends like the guys in the VFS 32nd LAN squadron (thanks for everything guys…you've shown what being in a "squadron" is all about), or our resident icon Mark Bush (I owe you bigtime pal), but folks around the country (hell, around the planet) that have shown their class by their conduct…some I've met, most I never will. To these people I would like to say, "Thank you for your caring and concern; each and every email, post or ICQ regarding my journey through this has touched me deeply."
My next big hurdle will be the recertification of my First Class Medical Certificate, then four days of ground school/simulator refresher training next month (which I plan on chronicling)…so until then, I guess I'll keep flight simming…after all, it seems to be good "therapy"…give it a try.
