Condition debilitates, derails man's life

Want to donate? People can visit gofundme.com, search for "Help Connor get an adjustable bed!" created by Connor Cartwright and click the link accompanying him sleeping on a blue pillow. MILAN — Connor Cartwright lived an active lifestyle but always aspired for more. An avid weightlifter and basketball player, Cartwright — who received the nickname "Peaches" from peers due to him living in Georgia as a young child — enjoyed his fast-paced-style server job at Longhorn Steakhouse in Sandusky. While working, the 2018 Edison High School graduate also pursued a postsecondary degree for his dream job: a licensed massage therapist. The Bellevue native found a balance between work and school, often spending time with his girlfriend, Jenna Damante, and rooting on Cleveland's professional sports teams. Then a life-altering, debilitating incident occurred, putting everything he did and dreamed of on hold. "I went from leg-pressing over 1,000 pounds for reps to being unable to walk more than five steps," Cartwright said. How life has changed A weird feeling overcame Cartwright right around Christmastime 2022. "One day, I woke up, excited to go have a day in Cleveland with my girlfriend," said Cartwright, who lives in Milan today. "We were on the highway when, all of a sudden, it felt like my head was in a whirl, and my body was shutting down. Everything became extremely heavy, and I was sure I was going to die." While in Cleveland, Cartwright checked himself into the Cleveland Clinic. "They ran basic blood tests and said I was fine," he recalled. "I took their word and went back home and rested for a few days. I continued about my business, trying to attend work and school, but couldn't make it through a shift or class without feeling like I was going to faint or puke." By January 2023, Cartwright's condition forced him to quit both school and work. "I was so determined to put everything on pause until I could discover what was wrong," Cartwright said. "We spent months searching for answers, and no stone was left unturned." Cartwright complied much of his research from a hospital bed. By midway through 2023, he spent two full months in multiple medical facilities, losing 65 pounds all due to being bedridden whether there or at home. "This disease had caused such weakness that it was hard for my body to process food or water," said Cartwright, who noted, at this time, doctors still couldn't properly diagnose his disease. "I could no longer stand or get to the restroom. I began using bedpans and bedside commodes." He then experienced issues with some of his senses. "This disease also caused severe light and sound sensitivity, so bad to the point where I wore giant noise-canceling headphones and eye covers almost 24/7 from June to August," Cartwright said. "I couldn't interact with anyone because it would cause my brain to go haywire and make me extremely nauseous and even more weak." He's since improved some, however, is still "significantly impaired and unable to do anymore in a day than walk seven steps to my bathroom and then back to my bed." Finding out the diagnosis Then in late 2023, medical professionals determined Cartwright suffers from myalgic encephalomyelitis, often shortened to ME. "I just want people to know about this," Cartwright said. "Before I became ill, I had never heard of this." People also refer to his diagnosis as chronic fatigue syndrome. But that "completely downplays the severity of this disease," he said. Cartwright explained. "Everyone has fatigue to some extent, and every disease has fatigue as a symptom, but this disease is much more than that," he said. "Average fatigue doesn't cause you to be unable to lift a spoon or fork. Average fatigue doesn't prevent you from being able to walk." Cartwright wanted an opportunity to speak, in part, so he could raise awareness and address a major issue associated with his diagnosis. It "has caused a stigma where people with myalgic encephalomyelitis can't receive treatment," Cartwright said. "Some doctors believe it's a psychosomatic disorder, or they believe it's depression or something else because there's yet to be a biomarker found. We are left in the dust by the medical community. I want people to shudder when they hear about myalgic encephalomyelitis." A message on the stigma Before continuing with the interview, Cartwright emphasized how he has a great deal of sympathy for those diagnosed with more common conditions, namely multiple sclerosis and HIV. "I want myalgic encephalomyelitis to have the same amount of funding from the National Institutes of Health as other debilitating diseases," Cartwright said. Myalgic encephalomyelitis "receives next to no funding for research compared to other diseases. Multiple sclerosis and HIV receive well over $1 billion a year from the National Institutes of Health while myalgic encephalomyelitis receives somewhere around $15 million." The worst part to Cartwright? "They don't have a cure, but they do have treatments that can help with quality of life," Cartwright said. "And I'm not saying this to downplay either one of those diseases or take away from them, but I just want the same acknowledgment. Myalgic encephalomyelitis has zero approved treatments while having a horrible quality of life." Cartwright said he hasn't left his home more than five times this past year. "And every single one was a hospital visit," he said. There are "millions of people missing from society with no voice, no help and no research for treatment," Cartwright said. A 'one-of-a-kind' heart Helping his own cause, Cartwright recently launched a fundraiser. People can visit gofundme.com, search for "Help Connor get an adjustable bed!" created by Cartwright and click the link accompanying him sleeping on a blue pillow. "I'm trying to get an adjustable bed that will help immensely with feeding and getting up," Cartwright said. "It will also help with carers' costs. I need assistance 24/7, but that's impossible to receive. My main caregiver is my beautiful girlfriend who works and goes to school full-time. She's a superhero." Among those in Cartwright's corner include Jennifer Wobser, who taught Connor in high school. "As a student for two years in my English language arts classes at Edison High, Connor was exceptionally hardworking, resilient, witty, respectful and kind to all," Wobser said. "Connor always offered depth to a class discussion. He wasn't afraid to challenge the status quo, and he had a creative mind." Wobser fondly recalls Cartwright performing songs he wrote about books the class read. "He would receive standing ovations after every performance," Wobser said. Wobser emphasized how Cartwright has a "one-of-a-kind heart and passion for life" and hopes he can return to his old self once again. "This mature young man always went out of his way to support the underdog, which is something I admired," she said. "I hope his medical team finds the right answers and support to help Connor feel healthy again soon. He is a special human." Cartwright aspires for the same outcome. "If I could make one wish, it would just be for all people to post #MECFS (myalgic encephalomyelitis chronic fatigue syndrome) on all of their socials and start a trend so people would become curious and become educated on this disease, which, in turn, hopefully would press the National Institutes of Health to fund research," he said.