By Raiderdrive and contributer

In 1975, Nancy Mangan. was a normal, happy 19-year-old girl, an Oakland Raiderette, experiencing all the wonders that life had to offer.  To see her infectious smile on the field would have made you believe that she had the world at her fingertips and that life was indeed good. Her unbelievably optimistic and engaging demeanor would have inspired and drawn you to her like some kind of personality magnet; indeed, for twelve-year-old Carmyn Manibusan, she was the ideal, the vision of what she wished to be. 

In a touching letter to Nancy, she explains the impact: " You always had something nice to say to me.  You always acknowledged my existence and made me feel like I mattered.  The memory of your kind words helped me get through the pains of growing up.  I looked up to you so much.  I even became a cheerleader because I wanted to be just like you.” 

Carmyn went on to be more than a cheerleader, winning a scholarship to a major performing group and touring with them for seven years.  Later she became a much sought-after choreographer for cheerleading routines, winning many awards throughout California for her expertise.  After retiring from dancing, Carmyn received an early childhood education certificate.  She then went on to operate her own dance company and childcare service.  She has also opened her home to teens in crisis. 

When Carmyn is asked what inspires her to work with children, one important reason comes to mind.  She explains to Nancy, “One is the memory of you and how you made me feel like I am important and can accomplish anything.  I try to instill that kindness you taught me in all the children God has blessed me with.”  

Many of the Raiderettes, and Nancy is no exception, have no idea what a profound effect they have on little girls.  The realization does not always come during their tenure; sometimes the recognition takes place years after their Raiderette days are just a dim memory.  Nancy may have been aware that little Carmyn was a fan, but the full ramifications of the child’s affection did not ring true for Nancy until many years later when she read this poem, which was part of the letter: 

 “When I am gone, it will not matter what kind of house I lived in, what kind of car I drove, how much money I made, or what kind of clothes I wore.  What will matter is that the world is a little better because I made a difference in the life of a child.”  Carmyn went on to write, “When I read this poem, I often think of you."

Nancy was overwhelmed, as the letter had come as a complete surprise.  “ I had no idea the impact I had on her.  It gave me chills to read this and made me cry a little too!”

However, back in 1975, despite the outward radiance and glow that exuded from Nancy’s personality and inspired young girls, like Carmyn, there was something dark and ominous brewing inside of this vibrant young woman, something that she could not grasp nor comprehend.  Like some kind of virulent phantom, it would appear and then, just as easily, disappear, or conceal itself with a false semblance of hope.

But then it would occur again, invariably with the same multiple symptoms: fatigue, blurred vision, and especially a loss of coordination, particularly alarming for an athletic young cheerleader.  At just 20 years of age, Nancy was confounded by the mystery of her affliction.  From 1975 until 1989, Nancy suffered with the symptoms.  Gradually, the coordination and balance problems increased until the weakness began to affect her lower extremities, making walking and moving not only difficult, but also exhausting and painful.  And with the concomitant blurring of her vision, she found herself stumbling around in the dark, so to speak, trying to find some answer that would illuminate her problem.  It wasn’t until 1989, with the aid of MRI technology, that her problem was diagnosed: multiple sclerosis.    

However, Nancy’s first MS symptom was optic neuritis, an inflammation of the optic nerve, which often causes acute vision loss.  These periodic spells occurred during her first days of high school, especially when there were some tension-producing activities in store, such as important final exams.  Nancy explains this phenomenon and other signs, which she calls the “puzzle pieces” of MS:

 “Twenty-four hours later, I would be perfectly fine and right back in it!  By the time most people are diagnosed with the disease, they are usually well into it.  The MRIs are a Godsend but cannot be the only test to determine MS—time is the true test.  Many people have only one attack in their lifetimes, while others never have an attack—only a slow progression of symptoms that never ends.  Dizziness is there, too—along with memory loss, slurred speech, bladder and bowel difficulties, numbness—my symptom that led to diagnosis—paralysis, swallowing difficulties, and that big ol' fatigue problem!”

For Nancy, the weakness in her legs became progressively worse, making walking increasingly difficult.  However, she was still ambulatory, using a cane for support.  But then suddenly and often characteristically of the disease, one day she awoke and knew before she even moved to arise that something was radically different—she was unable to move or stand.  “Overnight (September 1996), I found myself in a wheelchair and put in the rehabilitation section of our hospital for two weeks.  There I learned to stand again and, eventually, walk again.  It took about nine months.  Since then, I've been up and down on a crazy roller coaster ride, good days and bad days; all the while the MS slowly takes a little more, and no longer gives anything back.” 

Nancy, who is in the secondary progressive stage of MS, indicates that there are FDA approved medications now available and they are for the relapsing-remitting MS, which most are diagnosed with; however, about half of these individuals develop secondary progressive MS and unfortunately, as Nancy indicates, these medications seemingly have no effect.

Now, on good day, Nancy is able to stand for reasonably short intervals in her kitchen, with the aid of nearby counters, appliances, and tables.  And, by using whatever furniture is available to her, she is able to negotiate short journeys around her house.  However, her little jaunts around her home are becoming fewer in number and much shorter in duration, and those tolerable days are becoming less and less frequent.

After Nancy’s diagnosis, and with her increased knowledge of her illness, she was able to make sense of some of the problems experienced as a Raiderette: 

that anything was physically wrong...nothing a little more practice couldn't correct.  I would spend hours in the mirror trying to get my moves just right.”

 However, by that time, in 1975, other pressing personal problems exerted their priority, and Nancy made the decision to quit the squad.  Nancy soon married and raised two fine daughters, Megan and Andrea.  But soon after, she found herself a single mom, struggling to provide for the girls.  Things were tough for a while, but in 1983, at a technology school in Spokane, WA, Nancy met Max Good, a courageous, unpretentious, solid man.  Despite having lost a leg, Max was someone Nancy could lean on for support.  They were married two years later.  Thus, symbolically and ironically, she became Nancy Good.

Max has never considered himself handicapped.  In fact, when he first met Nancy, he was not wearing a prosthetic leg.  “It was my first prosthetic, and I had difficulty accepting it as a replacement to my real leg,” explains Max.  “She never pushed me; she let me decide when I was ready to wear it.  I promised her I would walk her down the aisle with my leg on for our wedding.  I now wear it every day.”

For the next 18 years, Max and Nancy were able to lean upon each other for both emotional and physical support, a relationship that is still as strong as ever.  Max indicated that he is not the only one who has the opportunity to lean on Nancy, but that others in the community are profiting from her optimism.  In fact, Max never ceases to be amazed by the drive and commitment that is generated from the frail body of his wife.  Her desire to help others come to understand more about their affliction and to generate in them the spirit to keep fighting provides evidence of her commitment to others.  “Now, some people may quit, but not Nancy.  She is the president of the local MS chapter and is continually getting calls from people newly diagnosed with MS, most of them referred by the local doctors.”

While great strides have been taken to be able to diagnose MS in young people and organizations, such as the Multiple Sclerosis Association of America (MSAA), have done much to educate the public, there is considerably more to be done as far as helping the afflicted and acquainting those unfamiliar with the symptoms, especially when it comes to “fatigue.”  Nancy explains:

“We look good, we look well, but we are completely on empty most of our days!  I think most people don't understand the exhaustion involved, and because we look so good and healthy, we are sometimes labeled as ‘lazy.’  Family, friends, employers need to learn the crazy world of MS and understand our energy is limited.  I think fatigue is the most common factor amongst all the MS patients and also the most understated.”

Of course, during her Raiderette days, when her energy and coordination were kicking in, cheerleading was very rewarding.  “Being a Raiderette was definitely one of my happiest experiences in my life,” Nancy maintains.  “I loved to dance and I loved football—it was a perfect combination for me.  I remember we had a routine called "the tiller"—64 high kicks in a row.  This is what I excelled in!  Brooke Fischer, our choreographer the first year, commented in front of all the other girls, ‘Nice kicks!’  Her praise made me so proud.  If she could see me now….”   

Indeed, if she could see Nancy now, she undoubtedly would be just as impressed.  While nearly 30 years have passed since that 19-year-old girl with high kicks made an impression on her mentors, she has not lost that drive and energy and in her own way; and with own unique style, she is still kicking it up with an abundance of faith.  Megan clarifies her mother’s drive: “I can't say enough about my mother.  I know that when she cheered for the Raiders, it was the best time of her life and she is so proud to be apart of that.  Even though she had to cut her Raiderette career short, she has always remained the most dedicated cheerleader at heart.”

Nancy has, indeed, found a new goal, one that oddly enough is not that far removed from her early days as a Raiderette—a new form of cheering, if you will.  However, this time, instead of raising the spirits of a football team and the fans, she’s putting whatever energy she can muster, along with her talent, into raising the hopes and spirits of other survivors like herself and helping them to still live the good life.

 Although no longer immersed in the excitement of the West Coast, Nancy finds many projects to keep her active by working with the regional Multiple Sclerosis Association of America (MSAA).  There is a great deal of work to be done regarding MS, even in the quietude of Missoula, MT, and other areas of the Mid-West.  For the past several years, the MSAA has hosted many educational workshops for the state of Montana and the surrounding Mid-West areas.  These seminars keep affected and concerned parties updated on the latest treatments for MS, including research going on in the unconventional remedies, such as bee-sting therapy. 

The organization also holds benefit events such as the annual Christmas luncheon in Missoula, MT.  Nancy is the party-planner for this fantastic hometown event, the planning of which begins in September, with letters being sent to some 100 local businesses and shops around town.  In the letter, Nancy explains what MS is and how the disease can isolate and change a person's once active life; and she requests a gift donation for a raffle, something that will boost the morale of a homebound person.  Nancy follows the letter up telephonically, and then volunteers collect the gifts before the event.  “The response has been stupendous,” reports Nancy.  “Some gifts are often valued over $400!  We have ready a pre-addressed envelope with a thank you card to the donors and slip in a Polaroid picture of the recipient with their gift.  I just pop it in the mail the next day, and everyone is happy.”

Despite her progressively debilitating condition, Nancy’s love and compassion for others takes precedence over her own health.  “She has a complete disregard for herself,” Megan says, “when it comes to her loved ones; that's why I would have to say that if there were one thing I would want to do with my life, it would be to become exactly like my mother!”

However, when it comes to taking care of herself, Nancy has learned to slow things down a bit.  “A lot of people just rush, rush, rush, and I was one of those—rush for it, rush for it.  I walked fast, I drove fast, I did everything fast.  Well, no more,” she says with a slight laugh.  Nevertheless, she remains positive because she has learned to make the most of what she has now and to focus whatever energy she has into what is possible:

  “Today I feel so fortunate to have had the opportunity of a lifetime.  I don't think I truly appreciated what I had then.  I certainly didn't appreciate the fact that I could dance and I could kick so high.  Of course, like most people, we never do appreciate what we do have until it's gone.  Simple pleasures are the best!  Everyone will face adversities in their lifetimes; it's a fact.  It tests our spirit and brings out our inner strengths, not only in ourselves, but also those that love and care for us.”

Perhaps no one more than husband Max has been tested, not just for his own adversity but as a partner in his wife’s turmoil.  It is a test he is determined to pass.  “Over the years, I have watched the MS take its toll on Nancy; it is very difficult to watch someone you love deteriorate in front of your eyes.  She is a fighter and she deals with her situation a lot better than I do.  I love my wife very much and I am proud to be her husband.  We will win this fight together.”

While Max is usually at her side throughout the battle, sometimes Nancy must still fight alone, especially when it comes to maintaining a constant physical therapy program.  Nancy trains with specially designed exercise equipment at a special gym, where a physical therapist tailors an exercise program to fit Nancy’s specific needs, including her legwork, balance, abs, and upper body work.  “I've got little Popeye muscles now,” she jokingly says in reference to her arms.  Along with a weightlifting routine, she works to improve her cardiovascular health as part of her bi-weekly hour and a half workout.  “My goal is to walk on the treadmill...maybe next year,” she optimistically declares. 

Many health and fitness advocates are coming to recognize the benefits of water walking, a most effective form of exercise, affording resistance no matter which direction a person moves, yet eliminating stress on the body.  “It is also great for MS because most MS people cannot tolerate heat,” Nancy notes.  “The warmer I become, the more faded my vision becomes and the weaker my body gets, so I can no longer sit erect.  A little cup of ice usually does the trick to help me return to normal.”  In reference to water therapy, Nancy adds, “The coolness of the water alleviates the heat problem while toning the body.”

When it comes to surviving the “heat” that life often intensifies, Nancy says, “I see it as having a choice.  No matter what the situation, choose to be a victim, or choose to be a fighter and a survivor.  I am a survivor.  Though my body may be weak, my spirit remains intact and stronger than ever.”

Because it is difficult to accept the fact there is a progressively destructive and incurable disease attacking the brain and spinal column of MS victims, there is a distinct tendency to go into denial and to go into a deep depression, which is another MS symptom, frequently requiring treatment.  Once past the denial and depression, the coping can begin, and one can begin to be a fighter and a survivor, as Nancy explains with her usual keen insight:

“Realizing that we need to pamper our bodies, nourish ourselves, and embrace the MS, and realizing our bodies have special needs—and that that's okay—are the first steps to learning to live with the disease.  Acknowledging the fact that we can no long jump as high as we once did, or dance all night long anymore, or think as keenly and sharply as we use to, and wasting our limited energy supply on things we cannot do—is a huge step in acceptance.  It's then that we can begin to turn our energies toward what's most important in our lives and achieve different goals, our new goals.  It's then that we can decide how and where we will spend our precious ‘gold.’  It's empowerment.”

Nancy explains that MS can be thought of as a "whittling" disease, because it can chip away bit by bit at a person's body, leaving the ‘victim’ completely imprisoned.  However, Nancy maintains that there is a choice in how the disease is dealt with:  “Do I want to be a victim or a survivor?  There is no known cure, and since my choice is to be a survivor, I will learn to make the necessary adjustments to live with it.  Life is still so-o-o good!  The only real disability is a bad attitude.”  Because science and technology are constantly making advancements regarding the control and cure of MS, Nancy concludes: “So, never give up hope!”

When it comes to Nancy’s hopeful spirit, Megan is a big fan: “The admiration I hold for my mother is so hard to describe.  Mom holds a special kind of light in her, which makes everyone and everything around her glow as well.  Her patience is uncanny.  Just look at all that she has to put up with MS.”

Along with that patience comes a unique sense of humor.  Megan recalls once when she had rushed to her Mom’s side after a fall.  The slightly banged up Nancy quipped, “If this is all I need to do to see you, I'm going to do it more often!”

 Nancy believes that there is a reason for all events, perhaps even for a simple fall.  She explains the faith that sustains her:

  “I believe God has a plan for each and every one of His creations.  We each possess a special purpose and are intertwined in each other’s lives to help one another.  I believe life is one big school, with more tests than we'd like, and that we

make mistakes so that we learn our own lessons.  Life is simply a school.  I don't believe in death, but believe in a ‘graduation.’  Our spirits live on forever—our bodies, temporary shelters.  Have faith...it wouldn't be called faith if it were believable.  Faith nourishes the spirit.  No matter what religious belief you have, you can't get through life without it.  It doesn't mean go to church every week, but carry faith in your heart.”

Because of her stoical philosophy, it is easy to see why Megan says, “She is the most amazing person I know; sometimes I think she forgets, and to have others reiterate this is such an ego booster to this modest woman!”

Nancy once got a letter in which the correspondent spelled her name G-o-d. Nancy responded with this modest correction:  "I'm good, not perfect."  Well, she may not be perfect, but should you ever meet her, you will know that she is about as good as it gets.

Anyway, what will be certain is that there will always be that glow that surrounds her, and she will still draw people to her and inspire all with her incredible story and her unbelievable optimism toward life.  Thus, no matter what the future may have in store for her, Nancy will continue, not only to set the example for others to follow, but also raise the mark for them to achieve.  And, above all, she will always be living the good life. 

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