David S.Living Strong
-David Strobach-
In honor of the anniversary of my brother Zach kicking cancer’s butt, I wanted to post our story.
I was sitting at the kitchen table one afternoon, in early October, 2005 drawing a picture. My sister Delilah was at her friend’s house, my brother Zach went to a car show with friends, and my twin, Sophie, was home with me. The sun was shining, trying to add warmth to the crisp cool fall day. And, there I sat, carefree, enjoying the pretty fall colors, drawing leaves with assorted crayons of red, yellow, and orange. Then, my mother received a troubling phone call from one of Zach’s friends. His friend, Nate, with a sickening worry in his voice told my mother that Zach was having intense pain in his groin and lower back. He couldn’t even walk. I saw my mom put down the phone, knowing something was wrong from the look on her face. Even though I was only five years old, I could sense something wasn’t right. That was when the darkness came.
As soon as Zach got home, my mother rushed outside. I never actually saw Zach and that’s when I knew that it could be more serious. She told me she had to take Zach to the hospital. That’s when I flipped my picture over to draw something else. I started to draw a picture for Zach of him in an ambulance. I was hoping everything would be okay.
Looking back, I remember my mother telling me that she thought Zach may have just torn or popped something in his groin or lower back because he was a skater and may have fallen. She thought some movement may have made it “out of whack.” Zach had a slight pain for a little while before the car show day. He even went to a chiropractor for some physical therapy. This was a very reasonable and a logical thought. She was very wrong and the darkness stayed.
Mom transported Zach from his friend’s car to our car and rushed him to the hospital. There, they found a mass on one of Zach’s testicles. My mom heard a vague comment about Lance Armstrong, but was confused. They wouldn’t tell her anything other than to come back the next morning to see a specialist. They decided to do immediate surgery even without a biopsy. A biopsy was too risky because there was a risk that trying to extract this suspicious mass would cause some cells to fall into the bloodstream. If some cells fell into the bloodstream, it could spread throughout his body.
After surgery, the doctors reported to my parents that Zach had cancer for sure. It was called testicular cancer. They told her it was the most aggressive type of cancer cell. The doctors did say that they believed that they extracted all of the cancer. Zach was sent home and everything was thought to be okay. They also found nothing in his blood cells to detect cancer. They didn’t know Zach was “marker negative,” which means the cancer cells would not come up in blood tests. My mother thought it was strange that he was just fine. Maybe it was just the darkness, but she had a gut feeling that something was wrong.
Just to be sure, my mother wanted a second opinion. She took Zach down to Rush hospital in Chicago. The doctor they saw was a trained specialist in this field. He worked under the doctor that treated the famous biker, Lance Armstrong, who also had testicular cancer. After Zach was checked out, the doctors brought back terrible news. The cancer had already spread to parts of his abdomen and lymph nodes. It would be awhile before the light and laughter would return to our home.
It’s so weird how life can literally change in an instant. Before this, Zach was on top of the world. He had just turned sixteen, had a girlfriend, got a driver’s license, and he got a sharp little sports car. He had just started his junior year at Walden H.S. Then it came all crashing down on a sunny Sunday afternoon. The clouds and the darkness came in the form of cancer, an uninvited stranger in our home. If left unchecked, the cancer would have progressed to the lungs and to the brain. Zach again needed a very complicated and immediate surgery. If my mother didn’t trust her gut and didn’t bring him in for a second opinion, the doctors said Zach would have died within six months to 2 years.
My mom and dad, understandably, had trouble dealing with the news. They felt overwhelmed, depressed and shocked. They couldn’t process and learn all the necessary information fast enough. My sister, Delilah, was in fifth grade and adored Zach. She was scared, but young enough to be a little clueless. Sophie and I could sense something was wrong, but we were confused. Cancer was like having an unwelcome stranger move in, where everyone is acting differently, and I tried to be on my best behavior. Sadness clouded our family. We were scared that we didn’t know what was wrong. There many hushed phone calls and sleepless nights for us all. Zach was down mentally and physically, scared, exhausted, yet hopeful, and strong. It was frustrating for him to have to rely on everyone else to do things for him. Zach was used to being thought of as a good-looking guy and vanity wise, it began to hurt his ego. He just wanted life to get back to normal.
In the surgery they removed all of the cancerous areas that were shown on the MRI’s. Then, they ordered several treatments of chemotherapy to flush out all remaining cells. He was out on a six month plan which was considered short, but still treacherous. Chemotherapy is a variety of medicine that they put through an IV in your body to attack your cancer cells. But in fact, it really is poison that kills the fastest growing cells in your body which include the lining of your mouth, your intestines, white blood cells, hair, nails, skin, and finally cancer cells. So while you’re attacking cancer cells, you are attacking all of those other things. A lot of people think chemotherapy is one thing, but each phase is different. It’s specifically designed for each patient. There is also some trial and error because too much can harm you and too little wouldn’t help at all.
Just when you think having cancer is bad enough, going through the chemotherapy results in devastating side effects. When mom brought Zach to the chemotherapy section of the hospital she said it sucked the air out of her lungs and she couldn’t breathe. Everyone around her looked like they were dying. She realized Zach would look like this soon. Zach lost his hair everywhere on his body. He once said that you don’t realize how much you need you nose hair because when you bend over everything drains out. He laughed, a little bit of light broke through. His hair follicles even hurt. A vivid memory my mother still sadly tells me is when Zach was lying in the hospital bed and complained that his head hurt. When he shifted, a huge chunk of his beautiful, black, thick hair was now part of the pillow and no longer a part of Zach. It took my mother’s breath away and she was speechless as she started to tear up. When Zach lost his hair I remember being terrified of him. Until then, the scars and gory stuff was buried beneath bandages and clothes. Now, I could see the metamorphosis left behind by cancer. Sunken, lifeless eyes and pale grey, hairless skin moved into my brother’s body. Zach was so weak, so sad that his little siblings, including myself, were scared of him. He was frightened, not recognizing his own reflection in the mirror.
The darkness grew and black spots began to appear on his fingertips and toes. It was the chemo burning his body from the inside out. Also as a result of the chemo, Zach had painful ulcers in his mouth and intestines. He experienced nausea and brain fog. My mother tells me that one day Zach woke up screaming and peeing blood because of kidney stones caused by the chemotherapy. To try to counteract some of the side effects they gave Zach steroids. These at least provided some relief and gave Zach an appetite, but also resulted in a bloated look, further distorting his normal good looks. But Zach, my brother, my inspiration, was not going to be beat.
Glimmers of light started to appear and brighten our home and Zach’s spirits. We were all going to battle to fight this! Zach’s support from Walden was monumental. Students and staff sent him well wishes and bought him a PSP video game to occupy his time at home. Many of his friends were always there for him. At my grade school and church, St. Rita’s, we would pray for him every day. We were fortunate to have many friends and family that helped make and deliver meals to our house. The support and prayers from others helped us greatly as well. The doctors and nurses were amazing. They all began to provide hope, and a light at the end of the tunnel that drove out the darkness.
About a year later, Zach was finally done with treatment. It’s a bitter sweet, and somewhat fearful feeling that treatment is over. It didn’t feel like an endgame, it felt like a waiting game to see if “it” comes back. Zach wasn’t going to sit around and wait for anything, there was too much living to do. Zach went on to enjoy prom, graduate from high school and get a degree from Marquette University. He is happy, healthy, handsome again, and the bravest man I know. And here I sit, nine years later, at the kitchen table, not drawing but typing. The sun is shining brightly, adding warmth to a glorious cool day.
“You beat cancer by HOW you live, WHY you live, and in the manner in which you live.”
-Stuart Scott
Share Bleacher Boy!
Living Strong
-David Strobach.-
In honor of the ten year anniversary of my brother Zach kicking cancer’s butt, I wanted to post our story!
I was sitting at the kitchen table one afternoon, in early October, 2005 drawing a picture. My sister Delilah was at her friend’s house, my brother Zach went to a car show with friends, and my twin, Sophie, was home with me. The sun was shining, trying to add warmth to the crisp cool fall day. And, there I sat, carefree, enjoying the pretty fall colors, drawing leaves with assorted crayons of red, yellow, and orange. Then, my mother received a troubling phone call from one of Zach’s friends. His friend, Nate, with a sickening worry in his voice told my mother that Zach was having intense pain in his groin and lower back. He couldn’t even walk. I saw my mom put down the phone, knowing something was wrong from the look on her face. Even though I was only five years old, I could sense something wasn’t right. That was when the darkness came.
As soon as Zach got home, my mother rushed outside. I never actually saw Zach and that’s when I knew that it could be more serious. She told me she had to take Zach to the hospital. That’s when I flipped my picture over to draw something else. I started to draw a picture for Zach of him in an ambulance. I was hoping everything would be okay.
Looking back, I remember my mother telling me that she thought Zach may have just torn or popped something in his groin or lower back because he was a skater and may have fallen. She thought some movement may have made it “out of whack.” Zach had a slight pain for a little while before the car show day. He even went to a chiropractor for some physical therapy. This was a very reasonable and a logical thought. She was very wrong and the darkness stayed.
Mom transported Zach from his friend’s car to our car and rushed him to the hospital. There, they found a mass on one of Zach’s testicles. My mom heard a vague comment about Lance Armstrong, but was confused. They wouldn’t tell her anything other than to come back the next morning to see a specialist. They decided to do immediate surgery even without a biopsy. A biopsy was too risky because there was a risk that trying to extract this suspicious mass would cause some cells to fall into the bloodstream. If some cells fell into the bloodstream, it could spread throughout his body.
After surgery, the doctors reported to my parents that Zach had cancer for sure. It was called testicular cancer. They told her it was the most aggressive type of cancer cell. The doctors did say that they believed that they extracted all of the cancer. Zach was sent home and everything was thought to be okay. They also found nothing in his blood cells to detect cancer. They didn’t know Zach was “marker negative,” which means the cancer cells would not come up in blood tests. My mother thought it was strange that he was just fine. Maybe it was just the darkness, but she had a gut feeling that something was wrong.
Just to be sure, my mother wanted a second opinion. She took Zach down to Rush hospital in Chicago. The doctor they saw was a trained specialist in this field. He worked under the doctor that treated the famous biker, Lance Armstrong, who also had testicular cancer. After Zach was checked out, the doctors brought back terrible news. The cancer had already spread to parts of his abdomen and lymph nodes. It would be awhile before the light and laughter would return to our home.
It’s so weird how life can literally change in an instant. Before this, Zach was on top of the world. He had just turned sixteen, had a girlfriend, got a driver’s license, and he got a sharp little sports car. He had just started his junior year at Walden H.S. Then it came all crashing down on a sunny Sunday afternoon. The clouds and the darkness came in the form of cancer, an uninvited stranger in our home. If left unchecked, the cancer would have progressed to the lungs and to the brain. Zach again needed a very complicated and immediate surgery. If my mother didn’t trust her gut and didn’t bring him in for a second opinion, the doctors said Zach would have died within six months to 2 years.
My mom and dad, understandably, had trouble dealing with the news. They felt overwhelmed, depressed and shocked. They couldn’t process and learn all the necessary information fast enough. My sister, Delilah, was in fifth grade and adored Zach. She was scared, but young enough to be a little clueless. Sophie and I could sense something was wrong, but we were confused. Cancer was like having an unwelcome stranger move in, where everyone is acting differently, and I tried to be on my best behavior. Sadness clouded our family. We were scared that we didn’t know what was wrong. There many hushed phone calls and sleepless nights for us all. Zach was down mentally and physically, scared, exhausted, yet hopeful, and strong. It was frustrating for him to have to rely on everyone else to do things for him. Zach was used to being thought of as a good-looking guy and vanity wise, it began to hurt his ego. He just wanted life to get back to normal.
In the surgery they removed all of the cancerous areas that were shown on the MRI’s. Then, they ordered several treatments of chemotherapy to flush out all remaining cells. He was out on a six month plan which was considered short, but still treacherous. Chemotherapy is a variety of medicine that they put through an IV in your body to attack your cancer cells. But in fact, it really is poison that kills the fastest growing cells in your body which include the lining of your mouth, your intestines, white blood cells, hair, nails, skin, and finally cancer cells. So while you’re attacking cancer cells, you are attacking all of those other things. A lot of people think chemotherapy is one thing, but each phase is different. It’s specifically designed for each patient. There is also some trial and error because too much can harm you and too little wouldn’t help at all.
Just when you think having cancer is bad enough, going through the chemotherapy results in devastating side effects. When mom brought Zach to the chemotherapy section of the hospital she said it sucked the air out of her lungs and she couldn’t breathe. Everyone around her looked like they were dying. She realized Zach would look like this soon. Zach lost his hair everywhere on his body. He once said that you don’t realize how much you need you nose hair because when you bend over everything drains out. He laughed, a little bit of light broke through. His hair follicles even hurt. A vivid memory my mother still sadly tells me is when Zach was lying in the hospital bed and complained that his head hurt. When he shifted, a huge chunk of his beautiful, black, thick hair was now part of the pillow and no longer a part of Zach. It took my mother’s breath away and she was speechless as she started to tear up. When Zach lost his hair I remember being terrified of him. Until then, the scars and gory stuff was buried beneath bandages and clothes. Now, I could see the metamorphosis left behind by cancer. Sunken, lifeless eyes and pale grey, hairless skin moved into my brother’s body. Zach was so weak, so sad that his little siblings, including myself, were scared of him. He was frightened, not recognizing his own reflection in the mirror.
The darkness grew and black spots began to appear on his fingertips and toes. It was the chemo burning his body from the inside out. Also as a result of the chemo, Zach had painful ulcers in his mouth and intestines. He experienced nausea and brain fog. My mother tells me that one day Zach woke up screaming and peeing blood because of kidney stones caused by the chemotherapy. To try to counteract some of the side effects they gave Zach steroids. These at least provided some relief and gave Zach an appetite, but also resulted in a bloated look, further distorting his normal good looks. But Zach, my brother, my inspiration, was not going to be beat.
Glimmers of light started to appear and brighten our home and Zach’s spirits. We were all going to battle to fight this! Zach’s support from Walden was monumental. Students and staff sent him well wishes and bought him a PSP video game to occupy his time at home. Many of his friends were always there for him. At my grade school and church, St. Rita’s, we would pray for him every day. We were fortunate to have many friends and family that helped make and deliver meals to our house. The support and prayers from others helped us greatly as well. The doctors and nurses were amazing. They all began to provide hope, and a light at the end of the tunnel that drove out the darkness.
About a year later, Zach was finally done with treatment. It’s a bitter sweet, and somewhat fearful feeling that treatment is over. It didn’t feel like an endgame, it felt like a waiting game to see if “it” comes back. Zach wasn’t going to sit around and wait for anything, there was too much living to do. Zach went on to enjoy prom, graduate from high school and get a degree from Marquette University. He is happy, healthy, handsome again, and the bravest man I know. And here I sit, nine years later, at the kitchen table, not drawing but typing. The sun is shining brightly, adding warmth to a glorious cool day.
“You beat cancer by HOW you live, WHY you live, and in the manner in which you live.”
-Stuart Scott
Share Bleacher Boy!
True Warriors: My Brother and Stuart Scott
-David S.-
There are many types of warriors on the field, the courts, and the baseball diamonds. The real warriors are those who face the battle of cancer. In response to the recent passing of Stuart Scott, I would like to express my sympathy by sharing my personal experience with cancer and how it has affected my family.
I was sitting at the kitchen table one afternoon, in early October, 2005 drawing a picture. My sister Delilah was at her friend’s house, my brother Zach went to a car show with friends, and my twin, Sophie, was home with me. The sun was shining, trying to add warmth to the crisp cool fall day. And, there I sat, carefree, enjoying the pretty fall colors, drawing leaves with assorted crayons of red, yellow, and orange. Then, my mother received a troubling phone call from one of Zach’s friends. His friend, Nate, with a sickening worry in his voice told my mother that Zach was having intense pain in his groin and lower back. He couldn’t even walk. I saw my mom put down the phone, knowing something was wrong from the look on her face. Even though I was only five years old, I could sense something wasn’t right. That was when the darkness came.
As soon as Zach got home, my mother rushed outside. I never actually saw Zach and that’s when I knew that it could be more serious. She told me she had to take Zach to the hospital. That’s when I flipped my picture over to draw something else. I started to draw a picture for Zach of him in an ambulance. I was hoping everything would be okay.
Looking back, I remember my mother telling me that she thought Zach may have just torn or popped something in his groin or lower back because he was a skater and may have fallen. She thought some movement may have made it “out of whack.” Zach had a slight pain for a little while before the car show day. He even went to a chiropractor for some physical therapy. This was a very reasonable and a logical thought. She was very wrong and the darkness stayed.
Mom transported Zach from his friend’s car to our car and rushed him to the hospital. There, they found a mass on one of Zach’s testicles. My mom heard a vague comment about Lance Armstrong, but was confused. They wouldn’t tell her anything other than to come back the next morning to see a specialist. They decided to do immediate surgery even without a biopsy. A biopsy was too risky because there was a risk that trying to extract this suspicious mass would cause some cells to fall into the bloodstream. If some cells fell into the bloodstream, it could spread throughout his body.
After surgery, the doctors reported to my parents that Zach had cancer for sure. It was called testicular cancer. They told her it was the most aggressive type of cancer cell. The doctors did say that they believed that they extracted all of the cancer. Zach was sent home and everything was thought to be okay. They also found nothing in his blood cells to detect cancer. They didn’t know Zach was “marker negative,” which means the cancer cells would not come up in blood tests. My mother thought it was strange that he was just fine. Maybe it was just the darkness, but she had a gut feeling that something was wrong.
Just to be sure, my mother wanted a second opinion. She took Zach down to Rush hospital in Chicago. The doctor they saw was a trained specialist in this field. He worked under the doctor that treated the famous biker, Lance Armstrong, who also had testicular cancer. After Zach was checked out, the doctors brought back terrible news. The cancer had already spread to parts of his abdomen and lymph nodes. It would be awhile before the light and laughter would return to our home.
It’s so weird how life can literally change in an instant. Before this, Zach was on top of the world. He had just turned sixteen, had a girlfriend, got a driver’s license, and he got a sharp little sports car. He had just started his junior year at Walden H.S. Then it came all crashing down on a sunny Sunday afternoon. The clouds and the darkness came in the form of cancer, an uninvited stranger in our home. If left unchecked, the cancer would have progressed to the lungs and to the brain. Zach again needed a very complicated and immediate surgery. If my mother didn’t trust her gut and didn’t bring him in for a second opinion, the doctors said Zach would have died within six months to 2 years.
My mom and dad, understandably, had trouble dealing with the news. They felt overwhelmed, depressed and shocked. They couldn’t process and learn all the necessary information fast enough. My sister, Delilah, was in fifth grade and adored Zach. She was scared, but young enough to be a little clueless. Sophie and I could sense something was wrong, but we were confused. Cancer was like having an unwelcome stranger move in, where everyone is acting differently, and I tried to be on my best behavior. Sadness clouded our family. We were scared that we didn’t know what was wrong. There many hushed phone calls and sleepless nights for us all. Zach was down mentally and physically, scared, exhausted, yet hopeful, and strong. It was frustrating for him to have to rely on everyone else to do things for him. Zach was used to being thought of as a good-looking guy and vanity wise, it began to hurt his ego. He just wanted life to get back to normal.
In the surgery they removed all of the cancerous areas that were shown on the MRI’s. Then, they ordered several treatments of chemotherapy to flush out all remaining cells. He was out on a six month plan which was considered short, but still treacherous. Chemotherapy is a variety of medicine that they put through an IV in your body to attack your cancer cells. But in fact, it really is poison that kills the fastest growing cells in your body which include the lining of your mouth, your intestines, white blood cells, hair, nails, skin, and finally cancer cells. So while you’re attacking cancer cells, you are attacking all of those other things. A lot of people think chemotherapy is one thing, but each phase is different. It’s specifically designed for each patient. There is also some trial and error because too much can harm you and too little wouldn’t help at all.
Just when you think having cancer is bad enough, going through the chemotherapy results in devastating side effects. When mom brought Zach to the chemotherapy section of the hospital she said it sucked the air out of her lungs and she couldn’t breathe. Everyone around her looked like they were dying. She realized Zach would look like this soon. Zach lost his hair everywhere on his body. He once said that you don’t realize how much you need you nose hair because when you bend over everything drains out. He laughed, a little bit of light broke through. His hair follicles even hurt. A vivid memory my mother still sadly tells me is when Zach was lying in the hospital bed and complained that his head hurt. When he shifted, a huge chunk of his beautiful, black, thick hair was now part of the pillow and no longer a part of Zach. It took my mother’s breath away and she was speechless as she started to tear up. When Zach lost his hair I remember being terrified of him. Until then, the scars and gory stuff was buried beneath bandages and clothes. Now, I could see the metamorphosis left behind by cancer. Sunken, lifeless eyes and pale grey, hairless skin moved into my brother’s body. Zach was so weak, so sad that his little siblings, including myself, were scared of him. He was frightened, not recognizing his own reflection in the mirror.
The darkness grew and black spots began to appear on his fingertips and toes. It was the chemo burning his body from the inside out. Also as a result of the chemo, Zach had painful ulcers in his mouth and intestines. He experienced nausea and brain fog. My mother tells me that one day Zach woke up screaming and peeing blood because of kidney stones caused by the chemotherapy. To try to counteract some of the side effects they gave Zach steroids. These at least provided some relief and gave Zach an appetite, but also resulted in a bloated look, further distorting his normal good looks. But Zach, my brother, my inspiration, was not going to be beat.
Glimmers of light started to appear and brighten our home and Zach’s spirits. We were all going to battle to fight this! Zach’s support from Walden was monumental. Students and staff sent him well wishes and bought him a PSP video game to occupy his time at home. Many of his friends were always there for him. At my grade school and church, St. Rita’s, we would pray for him every day. We were fortunate to have many friends and family that helped make and deliver meals to our house. The support and prayers from others helped us greatly as well. The doctors and nurses were amazing. They all began to provide hope, and a light at the end of the tunnel that drove out the darkness.
About a year later, Zach was finally done with treatment. It’s a bitter sweet, and somewhat fearful feeling that treatment is over. It didn’t feel like an endgame, it felt like a waiting game to see if “it” comes back. Zach wasn’t going to sit around and wait for anything, there was too much living to do. Zach went on to enjoy prom, graduate from high school and get a degree from Marquette University. He is happy, healthy, handsome again, and the bravest man I know. And here I sit, nine years later, at the kitchen table, not drawing but typing. The sun is shining brightly, adding warmth to a glorious cool day.
“You beat cancer by HOW you live, WHY you live, and in the manner in which you live.”
-Stuart Scott
Share Bleacher Boy!
The Effects of Steroids
-David S.-
Anabolic steroids are heard about everywhere in the sports world. They are thought to give you superior strength incredibly fast. Athletes feel that taking steroids gives them an edge at beating the competition. They think they can rise to be number one in their sport. This may be true, but there are consequences that can change your life forever in very negative ways. Although steroids strengthen you in the short-term, it will deteriorate your body over time. The negative effects, physically, as well as mentally, are staggering.
The proper name for anabolic steroids are anabolic-androgenic steroids. The word anabolic means building or growing. So your muscles are growing and building in this case (Crane). Testosterone is the main chemical on your body that anabolic steroids imitate (Taylor). Testosterone is an androgen and thought of as the “male hormone,” but it is actually found in women as well. An androgen is a male sex hormone. Ninety five percent of testosterone in men is produced in the testicles. Testosterone in men is responsible for a man’s muscular build. Womens’ testosterone is eighty-five percent produced by the ovaries and fifteen percent produced by the adrenal glands. The testosterone produced in women is much less than in men. A deep voice, beard, and slim hips are all caused by testosterone in a man. Muscle protein building, and the formation of red blood cells are promoted by androgens. Also, they increase your appetite (Silverstein). When people work out, they create micro tears in their muscle fibers. A muscle then regrows, like scar tissue and comes back larger than before. If you use anabolic steroids, this cycle gets faster and better. People can work out more often, as well as get stronger quicker (Taylor).
There are various techniques of taking steroids. Steroids can be ingested by a pill, injected with a needle, and also can be rubbed on your skin with a cream. Most people take a hundred times the amount that is prescribed normally. Another method is
called cycling. Cycling is most commonly used with body builders. This form has the individual taking the drug in certain time cycles. Most commonly, they are taken in 6 to 12 week cycles. Another way is called stacking. You put the substance into your body by both pill and injection. This isn’t scientifically proven to work, but is meant to double muscle growth. Pyramiding is a common way to take steroids. It is just like cycling, but slightly different. In your first cycle you take a low base dosage. Then each cycle you keep increasing your dosage until you hit a peak. Then you gradually decrease (Anabolic Steroid Abuse).
Steroids are very addictive. When usage is stopped, severe migraines, depression, and fatigue commonly occur. They have effects on the body that would encourage usage. Steroids increase muscle mass while lowering body fat with the increase of testosterone. It also increases the concentration of hemoglobin in your blood and your blood volume. Hemoglobin is in your blood and it carries oxygen from the lungs to the rest of the body. Steroids will also escalate bone strength and the mineral density in your bones. Your pain tolerance heightens. Steroids accelerate your recovery from muscle injuries and injuries caused from overuse. A sense of euphoria is felt by steroid use making you feel on top of the world (Taylor). In other words, steroids give you a sense of well-being and strengthen you abnormally quickly.
Anabolic steroid use is commonly found in many sports and most commonly associated with Major League Baseball. Athletes believe that using steroids will enhance their performance and give them an edge over the competition. Steroids, also known as performance enhancing drugs, are banned in sports for that very reason of giving them an edge over everyone else and to protect the health of the athletes.
People with a psychiatric condition known as muscle dysmorphia often abuse steroids. Muscle dysmorphia is the disorder of being absolutely obsessed with your body image. If someone is built and strong, they believe that they appear weak and skinny. There is no believing that you look good enough ever. Nothing is good enough for them concerning their body. This causes people with muscle dysmorphia to abuse anabolic steroids to improve their body image (Rohman). A common misconception among anabolic steroids is that they treat and prevent injury (Taylor). This has some truth, but can severely destroy the body in the long run.
Steroids will destroy your body physically. Specifically, men experience the development of breasts. The testicles also shrink (Crane). As a result of this, a reduced sperm count and temporary impotence also occurs. At first, using anabolic steroids increases the sex drive rapidly, but it eventually decreases. When the body experiences another source of testosterone, artificially introduced, the body may stop or slow the production altogether. This may actually make a man appear more feminine (Silverstein).
Women who take steroids appear to be more masculine. This is result of the increased testosterone. Another result is the deepening of the voice and breast size decreasing (Silverstein). Women lose their hair on their scalp, but it rapidly grows on their body. The hair lossage on the scalp is called male-pattern baldness (Anabolic Steroid Use). Menstrual irregularities often develop as well (Crane). Horrific side effects in women are the degeneration of the uterus and an enlarged clitoris (Silverstein).
Adolescents who take anabolic steroids usually do it to build muscle to improve in athletics and to attract women they are interested in. Sometimes boys take them to start puberty if it has not been reached at an older age. Adolescents using steroids may have premature baldness and may even have stunted growth. The stunting of growth happens because instead of bones and muscles growing, the bones become fused together. This makes no room for the bone to grow, just the muscle (Silverstein).
There are many side effects that develop in both men and women. The most common are severe acne and tendon and ligament damage. Tendons and ligaments become damaged because muscles are strengthened so fast that they can’t keep up. This could also cause a bone breakage (Crane). Users get a very oily scalp. Steroids also alter the level of lipoproteins which carry cholesterol through the bloodstream. Atherosclerosis can then occur. Atherosclerosis causes the arteries to have deposits of fatty substances within them. This can confound blood flow. If this arises, then the risk for heart attacks and strokes are greatly increased (Anabolic Steroid Use).
Anabolic steroids can destroy the body’s liver. Painful cysts will develop on the liver. Tumors can build up too and blood filled sacs can form. These blood sacs, cysts, and tumors can end up rupturing resulting in hemorrhaging and internal bleeding (Silverstein). Jaundice is also terrible side effect. It is a dysfunctional kidney condition that results in the yellowing of the skin and/or eyes (Crane). Another severe side effect is the possibility of infertility (Anabolic Steroid Abuse).
There are many personality and psychological effects. Users can end up experiencing suicidal feelings (Crane). Commonly people become delusional and experience mania. You may hallucinate and hear voices in your head. This is commonly referred to as ‘bodybuilders psychosis’ (Stein). Most often it is expressed as severe rage and aggression.
‘‘Roid rage” is the term for the behavioral side effects of severe rage and aggression. Increased testosterone has been linked with increased aggression. It has been reported that users would burst out raging. Some examples are beating a spouse for no reason and smashing in a car window in front of you because the blinker was left on. In the worst cases, ‘roid rage has resulted in murder. “It made me feel real moody, violent. I wanted to kill someone,” football player, Dan Steinkuhler said (Silverstein).
Anabolic steroids absolutely destroy your body. There are virtually zero positive outcomes from taking this drug because of the harmful side effects. Physically, your body will destroyed and deteriorate. Psychologically, they will change your personality and not for the better. The short-term enhanced performance, resulting from steroids, is in no way worth the risks of the detrimental effects on the mind and body.
Works Cited
Bleacher Boy 