Please share this link, please donate or share. If I don't raise enough money I have to pay out of my pocket and I don't have the money. I need help!!!
<a href="http://www.cff.org/LWC/dsp_DonationPage.cfm?idEvent=19980&idUser=442219">http://www.cff.org/LWC/dsp_DonationPage.cfm?idEvent=19980&idUser=442219</a>
That link will bring you to my home page!
My name is Michael Gulinello, People call me Mike and I was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis when I was 7months old. I'm 28 now and it hasn't been easy but I got to be this age with my great outlook on life.
I haven't always been as healthy as I am now. I had my ups and downs; I was a party person, a smoker, a drinker. I had no hope for my future, I have a terminal illness. How could life possibly get better when they say it gets worse as you get older? Well, this is my story of overcoming my past and looking into my future. I accepted CF for what it was and I finally made a choice that I will never look back on again. I decided to get as healthy as I possibly could, and try to be an exception to the rule that is CF. I made this choice just a couple years ago and this is how I made that choice…
4 years ago. I got diagnosed with a CF related illness called Distinal Intestinal Obstruction Syndrome (D.I.O.S.). From D.I.O.S. I've had two serious obstructions in my small intestine and need to have surgery to have it removed. In December of 2009 during one of the surgery I had to have a foot of intestines removed, this wasn't the first time I needed that done as I did when I was 3 years old. Since I had such an evasive surgery I needed to have a stoma (the cut a hole in the side of my stomach and placed me on a bag for 3 months till the surgery of my intestines healed). It was the hardest time in my life. I had a drastic decrease in lung functions and was losing all the hope that I had. So after the 3 months they went back in and I got rid of the bag. I had to wait another 6 months for that to heal.
So August 2010 comes around and I was cleared to be as physical as I liked. I started playing back yard football with my friends, which was a total waste of time since I had no strength in my legs or lungs. I kept going anyways and I kept getting stronger and stronger. I was hospitalized in October that same year. I was with Physical therapists who said I was doing really well on the treadmill and they asked me if I ran regularly. I didn’t run at all other then football. I haven’t run in years prior to this, except the occasion pick up games. I started to think about joining a running club or run a 5k, so I talked to my friend about running together because he has mentioned it a few times to me. I decided to start running with him, which wasn't much. I was lucky to even walk a mile let alone jog one. It was much different than playing football; it’s a whole different world. In football you take 15-25 second breaks between plays while walking back to the line of scrimmage. When running, you get no breaks. It was a month in from running with my friend I said to him we should run in the Boston Marathon in April 2011. He laughed for a few seconds and then realized I was 100% serious. He then turned back to me after pondering it for a few seconds and said with excitement "let’s do it". After months of trying to get a number to run, we both failed doing so. My friend moved away and I lost all hope of running in the marathon, I called it quits, I stopped running and I stopped trying to get a number to run.
It was around Christmas time when I got an email from somebody, most likely my social worker Isabelle bailey. She told me I could still run in the marathon, just not officially. I didn’t know what she meant and sent her an email asking what she’s talking about. She told me people run as unofficial runners (bandits) with no number. I was pretty sure I was going to run once I saw the word bandit, I was like, I’m the badass person I know of course I’m going to run it now. I had to look into it first, I was afraid I’d get arrested, I’m not that badass. I came across a lot of mixed reviews, some people hate bandits and some people don’t care and love that they do it anyway. It’s been somewhat of a tradition for the Boston marathon to have bandits; it added to the all ready historical event that it was.
I began running more after I found that out gained all hope again. I started telling everyone I was running in the marathon comes April. Without any surprise I didn’t have many people as supporters, after all how’s a guy with CF 8 months out of surgery going to run a marathon. My best support came from the team at Children’s Hospital of Boston. They were excited that I set such a high goal, I’m sure they had their doubts but I had my doubts too.
April came and I ran in the Boston marathon, I wish I could tell you I won the thing but I didn’t. I finished and to me that am all that mattered, my time wasn’t impressive. I finished just shy of 5 hours, I didn’t walk away with the flowers or my pictures all over TV. I didn’t even get a medal as I ran as a bandit. I did win something though, something no one can ever take away from me. It’s not shiny, it doesn’t say 2011 Boston marathon winner on it. I could try to tell you what it is, but I’m not sure of the word, maybe its hope, faith, or maybe it’s just my ego. After all I’m 1 in a 100 people to finish a marathon, I’m also 1 in 15000+ people I know with CF to run and finish. It’s not pride though, I love numbers and odds but that’s not what was proven by me. I also wasn’t trying to prove anything to other people with CF; I wasn’t trying to do something other people with CF haven’t done. I think what I was doing was proving to myself that CF isn’t going to get the best of me. It shouldn’t get the best of anyone with CF, nor should any disease anyone has. Having an illness is a devastating thing; it destroys people’s hopes and their dreams. I think I might have changed that, maybe just a little. I’m hoping that people around the world can know that people like me over come obstacles in life to obtain something more than just money or fame. To obtain the slightest bit of hope, to realize that life is a marathon. Marathon runners say the first 20 miles are the easiest; it’s the last 6 that test your mettle. In life, it’s the first 26 miles are the hardest and the last .2 is the easiest.
<a href="http://www.cff.org/LWC/dsp_DonationPage.cfm?idEvent=19980&idUser=442219">http://www.cff.org/LWC/dsp_DonationPage.cfm?idEvent=19980&idUser=442219</a>
That link will bring you to my home page!
My name is Michael Gulinello, People call me Mike and I was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis when I was 7months old. I'm 28 now and it hasn't been easy but I got to be this age with my great outlook on life.
I haven't always been as healthy as I am now. I had my ups and downs; I was a party person, a smoker, a drinker. I had no hope for my future, I have a terminal illness. How could life possibly get better when they say it gets worse as you get older? Well, this is my story of overcoming my past and looking into my future. I accepted CF for what it was and I finally made a choice that I will never look back on again. I decided to get as healthy as I possibly could, and try to be an exception to the rule that is CF. I made this choice just a couple years ago and this is how I made that choice…
4 years ago. I got diagnosed with a CF related illness called Distinal Intestinal Obstruction Syndrome (D.I.O.S.). From D.I.O.S. I've had two serious obstructions in my small intestine and need to have surgery to have it removed. In December of 2009 during one of the surgery I had to have a foot of intestines removed, this wasn't the first time I needed that done as I did when I was 3 years old. Since I had such an evasive surgery I needed to have a stoma (the cut a hole in the side of my stomach and placed me on a bag for 3 months till the surgery of my intestines healed). It was the hardest time in my life. I had a drastic decrease in lung functions and was losing all the hope that I had. So after the 3 months they went back in and I got rid of the bag. I had to wait another 6 months for that to heal.
So August 2010 comes around and I was cleared to be as physical as I liked. I started playing back yard football with my friends, which was a total waste of time since I had no strength in my legs or lungs. I kept going anyways and I kept getting stronger and stronger. I was hospitalized in October that same year. I was with Physical therapists who said I was doing really well on the treadmill and they asked me if I ran regularly. I didn’t run at all other then football. I haven’t run in years prior to this, except the occasion pick up games. I started to think about joining a running club or run a 5k, so I talked to my friend about running together because he has mentioned it a few times to me. I decided to start running with him, which wasn't much. I was lucky to even walk a mile let alone jog one. It was much different than playing football; it’s a whole different world. In football you take 15-25 second breaks between plays while walking back to the line of scrimmage. When running, you get no breaks. It was a month in from running with my friend I said to him we should run in the Boston Marathon in April 2011. He laughed for a few seconds and then realized I was 100% serious. He then turned back to me after pondering it for a few seconds and said with excitement "let’s do it". After months of trying to get a number to run, we both failed doing so. My friend moved away and I lost all hope of running in the marathon, I called it quits, I stopped running and I stopped trying to get a number to run.
It was around Christmas time when I got an email from somebody, most likely my social worker Isabelle bailey. She told me I could still run in the marathon, just not officially. I didn’t know what she meant and sent her an email asking what she’s talking about. She told me people run as unofficial runners (bandits) with no number. I was pretty sure I was going to run once I saw the word bandit, I was like, I’m the badass person I know of course I’m going to run it now. I had to look into it first, I was afraid I’d get arrested, I’m not that badass. I came across a lot of mixed reviews, some people hate bandits and some people don’t care and love that they do it anyway. It’s been somewhat of a tradition for the Boston marathon to have bandits; it added to the all ready historical event that it was.
I began running more after I found that out gained all hope again. I started telling everyone I was running in the marathon comes April. Without any surprise I didn’t have many people as supporters, after all how’s a guy with CF 8 months out of surgery going to run a marathon. My best support came from the team at Children’s Hospital of Boston. They were excited that I set such a high goal, I’m sure they had their doubts but I had my doubts too.
April came and I ran in the Boston marathon, I wish I could tell you I won the thing but I didn’t. I finished and to me that am all that mattered, my time wasn’t impressive. I finished just shy of 5 hours, I didn’t walk away with the flowers or my pictures all over TV. I didn’t even get a medal as I ran as a bandit. I did win something though, something no one can ever take away from me. It’s not shiny, it doesn’t say 2011 Boston marathon winner on it. I could try to tell you what it is, but I’m not sure of the word, maybe its hope, faith, or maybe it’s just my ego. After all I’m 1 in a 100 people to finish a marathon, I’m also 1 in 15000+ people I know with CF to run and finish. It’s not pride though, I love numbers and odds but that’s not what was proven by me. I also wasn’t trying to prove anything to other people with CF; I wasn’t trying to do something other people with CF haven’t done. I think what I was doing was proving to myself that CF isn’t going to get the best of me. It shouldn’t get the best of anyone with CF, nor should any disease anyone has. Having an illness is a devastating thing; it destroys people’s hopes and their dreams. I think I might have changed that, maybe just a little. I’m hoping that people around the world can know that people like me over come obstacles in life to obtain something more than just money or fame. To obtain the slightest bit of hope, to realize that life is a marathon. Marathon runners say the first 20 miles are the easiest; it’s the last 6 that test your mettle. In life, it’s the first 26 miles are the hardest and the last .2 is the easiest.