Michigan man gets ‘back in the circle’ after illness
HESPERIA, Mich. — Frank Pearo is a man of deep passion — for his heritage and for life. But he almost lost both, thanks to a myriad of setbacks connected to his personal battle with a serious health condition that was literally killing him.
Through it all, Pearo maintained his goal, which was once again to be able to participate in the Native American dance (or the powwow).
Pearo is of the Chippewa and Ottawa heritage, and is a member of the Little River Band of Indians. He says he's been involved in the Native American dance since he was born, so being away from it for nearly a decade has been agonizing for him.
The road to recovery he took has been long, frustrating, and, at times, scary.
"I'm not ready to die," Pearo said from his Hesperia home. "I have a lot of things I need to do yet."
For Pearo, 62, his disease began surfacing in 2007. He was a truck driver and said he experienced major pains in his chest during a delivery in 2006.
"I was pushing my load onto the skids, and all of a sudden, I dropped to my knees," Pearo said. "I was rushed by ambulance to Muskegon's General Hospital where doctors found out I had an issue with my lungs."
Pearo was diagnosed with a condition known as idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, or IPF.
"Scarring in the lung is the cause," said Dr. Reda Girgris, pulmonologist and director of Spectrum Health's lung transplant program.Girgris says the medical community is still trying to figure out the underlying cause of this disease.
"There's no cure for this disease," Girgis added. "Oftentimes, people with it progress to respiratory failure, followed by death; lung transplantation is the only option for people in Frank's condition."
In 2012, Frank was taken to Spectrum Health in Grand Rapids for tests to determine if he was a suitable candidate for a transplant.
By this time, Pearo was unable to breath on his own, on full oxygen, and given only a few months to live.
In the fall of 2012, a suitable donor was identified, and Pearo underwent a single lung transplant.
"Ultimately he made it through OK," Girgis said.
Pearo spent close to two years recovering from the transplant, but in the fall of 2014, something went wrong.
"I developed an infection in my new lung, and that led to pneumonia," said Pearo.
"Frank ... was in the ICU here for quite some time," added Girgis.
Pearo had fought nearly all the way back from the lung transplant.
"It was like I was starting over from scratch," he said. "Like a snap of a finger, I could have been gone, but something inside me wouldn't let go because I've always been a fighter."
Pearo would spend three months at Spectrum Health Blodgett Hospital in Grand Rapids, fighting the lung infection. He spent the holidays there, lying flat on his back, wondering if he'd ever be able to dance in the circle again.
"I got really depressed," Pearo said. "I felt like my spirit was dying."
Earlier this year, the lung infection began to clear up, but to begin enduring three hours of grueling physical therapy per day.
When he wasn't working at trying to get his strength back, he'd lie in his hospital bed and think about his heritage, the powwows, and returning to his dancing.
"I believe in my spirits," Pearo said from his hospital bed. "When you step into that circle, you can feel it; I belong with those people."
His deep desire to dance again was what forced him to endure the therapy sessions. Pearo could barely breathe, coughing, gasping for air, but he continued to push through.
The dance was calling him.
Pearo was released from the hospital and sent home to continue his recovery.
Spring would give way to summer and Frank was still on oxygen, using a walker, and continuing to try and get strength back in his legs.
"I circled a date on my calendar — September 12th," said Pearo. "That's the day I plan to get back dancing."
Sept. 12 was the Grand Valley Indian Lodge Powwow, held every fall in Grand Rapids.
As the summer wore on, Frank's condition continued to improve. His breathing got better, and he was able to move around his house without the aid of a cane or walker.
The reality of getting back to the circle seemed imminent.
Sept. 12 arrived, and Frank Pearo and his family made the trip to Grand Rapids.
He needed help from his wife son to get his regalia on, but it didn't take long for him to be ready.
"I had my mind set on coming here to dance, and I'm going to dance," Pearo said, as he sat in a wheelchair under a canopy just 4 feet from the hallowed ground of the powwow circle. "I look forward to feeling the drums, because that's the heartbeat of mother Earth."
Once the powwow started, it didn't take long for Frank to want to get back in the circle. He was wheeled over to the grandstand, where the entrance to the circle was.
"Are we ready, bud?" Pearo said to his son.
Frank got up out of his wheelchair, walked around to the back of it, grabbed the handlebars, and began walking around inside the powwow circle. Each step, though short, had plenty of purpose.
The powwow would go on for hours that day, and Pearo would get back into the circle several times, pushing his wheelchair for leverage and, of course, in case he got tired and had to sit down.
"I'll hurt tonight, but I don't care," Pearo said afterwards, with a smile on his face. "I got to do what I've been waiting for a long time to do."
Pearo says his next goal is to make it around the circle without having to hold on to his wheelchair.