Bitten, Broken, Unbowed

By Chuck Yarling

In 2012, I was living a great life, especially considering I was sixty-seven years old. I had three degrees: a B.A. in Math and a BSEE degree from the University of Texas at Austin, and a Master’s Degree in Education from Texas State University. These led me to a great 25-year career in the semiconductor manufacturing industry and nine years of teaching high school algebra at St. Michael’s Catholic Academy.

Now, I am a tutor for students from third grade through high school, college students, and other adults who seek help in a variety of subjects I’m qualified to teach. For one company, I am certified to tutor over 30 subjects, though my main focus is on various math topics and writing. With my background in writing over the last forty years, I am likely the most experienced writer and author in my city of Austin, Texas.

I am a 32-year triathlete who has raced in a total of 111 triathlons, four swimming-bike races (called aquabikes), sixteen run-bike-run races (called duathlons), 97 running races, two century bike races (100 miles long), and two 2,000-meter swims. In 2012, I had raced in three triathlons, finishing in the top three in my 65–74-year age group, and one aquabike—which I won, though it only had five total athletes.

This was who I was—until the third week of August 2012.

On Monday of that week (August 11), I started not feeling my usual self but still managed to complete the final exam of a music course I was taking at Austin Community College. At 8 a.m. on Wednesday (August 13), while eating breakfast, I decided to go back to my room to lie down. However, I collapsed in front of my bed and fell into a coma.

About 34 hours later, when I didn’t show up to my regularly scheduled Happy Hour, Rick—my “brother from another mother”—came to my apartment complex. He contacted Tim, the maintenance supervisor, and together they broke into my apartment and found me. At first, they thought I was dead. They immediately called an ambulance, which rushed me to a nearby hospital.

I don’t remember how long I was unconscious, but I woke up wondering what had happened. The doctor explained that I had contracted West Nile Virus—a dual infection of encephalitis and meningitis. Generally speaking, encephalitis results in inflammation of the brain, and meningitis causes inflammation of the lining of the brain and spinal cord.

Oh, by the way, I found out later that five of us were admitted to the hospital that same week in August 2012 with WNV symptoms—and three of them died. I was told I most likely survived being in a coma for that long because of my physical fitness as a triathlete.

Here’s how WNV affected me then—and how some of it still affects me today. I lost all hearing in my right ear and partial hearing in my left. I lost my ability to walk and was forced to use a wheelchair. I quickly discovered that I couldn’t sleep with my heels on the bed due to severe pain in both feet. I woke up every day with severe leg spasms, which were eased with Tizanidine pills I still take to this day.

I was catheterized and wore adult diapers. And just a couple of months ago, I realized—I can’t whistle anymore.

After being released from the hospital, I spent the next three months in rehabilitation facilities: September at Texas Neuro Rehab Center; October at Encompass Health Rehabilitation Hospital of Austin; and November in a facility that no longer exists.

In December, I moved in with my good friend Rick, whom I’ve known since 1969, just before I left for Vietnam. I stayed with him and his wife through December and January 2013. While there, I relearned how to care for myself—cooked breakfast and lunch, ate dinners prepared by his wife, and figured out how to shower and use the toilet with a special seat. I also began working with an in-house rehab nurse and started learning to use a walker.

In early February, Rick took me to the parking lot of the Burger Center to test my driving ability. Once he was confident, I was able to return to living independently in my apartment—for the first time in six months!

Since 2013, I’ve walked with a cane and used hearing aids to converse. I’ve continued tutoring, lifting weights in my apartment gym, swimming in the pool, riding my real bike with Rick (since I still have balance issues), riding my indoor bike, and going to Friday Happy Hours.

From 2015 to 2020, I competed in four indoor triathlons—swimming in a gym pool, riding an indoor bike, and walking on a treadmill. In 2017, I did my first outdoor race post-WNV: another aquabike. Needless to say, my only goal in these five races was to finish. I’ll never again race competitively in my age group.

What saddens me most about West Nile Virus is how few people understand how deeply I miss being as physically active as I was before that third week in August 2012. Now, my activity is limited to walking, swimming, biking, and gym workouts.

But who knows—with enough training, maybe I’ll compete in another aquabike race. After all, how many competitors will there be in my age group after I turn eighty in just a couple of weeks?

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This first appeared in The Havok Journal on May 13, 2025.

Chuck Yarling is a U.S. Army veteran who served as a Specialist 5 during the Vietnam War. He was assigned to Headquarters Company, 26th Combat Engineer Battalion, in Chu Lai, Vietnam, from 1969 to 1970. For The Havok Journal, he writes from a first-person veteran perspective, with published essays centered on Vietnam-era Army service, military family life, and the personal context of that period.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.