Letters: Luckiest woman on the face of the Earth

I AM A baseball fan. I love all aspects of the game: the fact that it's your companion for the entire summer and hopefully well into the fall, the idea that every at-bat creates its own set of circumstances that can turn the tide of a game in a heartbeat, the fact that not every season can be a repeat of the Phillies' magical 2008 season, but that every season can be enjoyed for the ride it gives you.

I cherish baseball. I have delighted in the opportunity to spend special time with my son every summer for the past 16 years as we travel to a new ballpark, just the two of us. We have journeyed to 14 different parks, and Cooperstown, N.Y. This year we're trekking to Atlanta.

I am a student of baseball. I find the stories, records, statistics and superstitions fascinating and I can second-guess a manager's decision with the best of them.

This summer, more than any previous summer, baseball strikes a particular chord in me. Ten months ago I was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, more commonly known as Lou Gehrig's disease.

The irony of this is not lost on me, and the fact that this July Fourth is the 75th anniversary of the Iron Horse's famous speech strikes particularly close to home. People may wonder how a man in the prime of his life could face death so gallantly. I wonder why, after 75 years, there is no effective treatment or cure for this devastating disease.

ALS is a neurodegenerative disease that attacks the motor neurons in the brain and spinal chord. These motor neurons send messages to the muscles in our body. As motor neurons die, the person progressively loses the ability to walk, speak, swallow and breathe. ALS is always fatal, usually within two to five years. I have been fortunate, if it is possible to say that, because my progression has been very slow.

When I was first diagnosed I had no idea how the disease would progress. That is one of the most difficult things about ALS: Everyone is different and the doctors can't tell you exactly what to expect. You are left feeling helpless. There is no plan of attack; there are no drugs or treatment that give you hope. You are left watching and waiting as your body deteriorates, and there is nothing you can do.

The human brain remains a mystery, especially with regard to neurodegenerative diseases, such as ALS, Alzheimer's, Parkinson's and Huntington's disease - but brain diseases have become a global epidemic. By the year 2025, one in 25 Americans will be facing one. There is some very promising work being done at leading research institutions across the country suggesting that a cure may be found soon if enough resources are dedicated to this work. What is needed is funding for aggressive, collaborative research, and an expedited path for drugs that are found to be useful to get to the people who need them. We need actively to engage our politicians with a real sense of urgency because one day each of us will be affected, either with our own diagnosis or that of a loved one.

This July Fourth I'll be watching as baseball celebrates Lou Gehrig's anniversary and legacy. The announcers will talk about the Iron Horse, Gibraltar in cleats, and spew out all the numbers, all the at-bats, all the consecutive games, the competition between him and the Babe, and, yes, they will talk about the man who said that he "got a bad break but was the luckiest man on the face of the earth." I, for one, hope that by highlighting one man's life, attention is brought to the need to find a cure for all of us who share in that bad break.