My name is Alfonso Diaz and I am a Wildland fireman. All those who embark on the grand adventure that is Wildland fire are sure to face extremely difficult challenges to mind, body, and spirit. In this line of work, no one person is exempt from some unusual struggle , or the seemingly impossible tasks that only the Wildland firefighter would understand. On top of tackling the dynamic nature of the job, everyone struggles with their own thing right?Everyone has got their own problems. My experience as a Wildland firefighter has been especially difficult. I was diagnosed with Lupus in 2017 after my third season. My disease has made the job burdensome to manage.

Now, every obstacle I face is an uphill battle, and this hill is not flat. So it’s a good thing I know how to hike.

Originally, I am from Southern California. I started pursuing a career in fire while attending local college. Once I completed EMT and Fire academy programs, I got a job driving an ambulance. After about a year of that, I ran into some old buddies from the fire academy. They had just came home from their first fire season with an outfit out of La Grande, Oregon. They were showing me pictures of fire and videos of them dropping tree and dragging torch through the woods. I thought it looked so cool and like a lot of fun. So the next season, I went with them along with some other fire academy brothers to La Grande. My first fire was in Hells Canyon, Idaho. We got flown in by helicopter out of Pittsburgh Landing. Flown in by helicopter on my very first fire. It was safe to say, I was hooked from the start. And there were so many things about fighting fire in the Wildland setting that I just loved. I preferred it over the thought of being a firefighter back home in the Southern California hellscape. I spent two seasons in Oregon. I learned a lot and had a lot of fun but I wanted more.

2016 was my third season I got picked up by Boise Hotshots. Fire was steadily coursing through my veins at this point. I felt as if I had literally made it to the big leagues. And I had. Boise Hotshots don’t mess around. The crew was so solid and I felt privileged to be there with the best people. 2016 was a tough Fire season but it’s always tough for a hotshot. As the season progressed, I also felt myself progressing. I was glad to be keeping up. Much of that season was spent on our own Forest. We had the pioneer fire that year and spent multiple rolls getting after it. But eventually she did go out and the season did end. My first season as a hotshot completed. They asked me to return and I felt as if I had found a home and family to be a part of. I had loved everything about the season and the people that I worked with that I had made it up in my mind that I was going to be a Boise Hotshot for as long as I could. But three weeks after the season had ended, I suffered a pulmonary embolism. I spent a few days in the ICU feeling very bewildered as to why this just had happened. I just finished an awesome season, I was young, healthy, and in the best shape of my life. Doctors did not have a good answer for me and so I was left very confused. I remember that i didn’t want to tell anyone on the crew because I didn’t want to squander my opportunity to go back for a second season.

I spent most of that offseason working on my physical fitness and health. I wanted to be sure that I would be prepared for the glory of my second hotshot season and all of the obstacles, and stresses, and literal mountains that would come with that. But in March of that offseason, I would become deathly ill. It started as a very slow onset. Initially just felt like a bad stomach flu. The first day was spent on the toilet. The second day I woke up with severe muscle soreness throughout my entire body. These symptoms persisted and worsened for weeks without relent. I was becoming increasingly weaker by the day, becoming anemic and feeling as if I would faint every time I stood. I had no appetite. The thought of food made my stomach turn. I ended up losing 50 pounds in one month. I started losing my hair. I had rashes on my leg and face. Completely exhausted, I would spend most of two months in bed wondering what was happening to me. I had just been crushing hills with Boise Hotshots. I could barely walk up a flight of stairs. For those months doctors were stumped. One day at home I had a syncopal episode and had to go to the hospital by ambulance to have an emergency blood transfusion. I was finally diagnosed with systemic lupus at USC hospital in May of 2017. They also attributed the blood clot in my lung just months before to the disorder as well.

During the midst of my demise I had to inform my old crew that I would not be returning for my second season. They wished me well but I don’t think they really understood what I had been going through since it had all occurred during the offseason. I fell into depression, sad that I could no longer do hoodrat shit with my friends. I like to joke about it now but at the time I was very sorrowful, thinking that I may never fight fire again. My heart dropped when the team of doctors at USC told me that. But there was also this corner of my mind that stared back in defiance as they delivered the news. I was now on a list of medications that i would take daily and most likely for the rest of my life. Physically very weak from battling the wolf that is Lupus, it took many agonizing months after to get back into somewhat physical strength. Those days were long and lonely. But I was cleared by doctors in February 2018. I asked Boise Hotshots if they would take me back. They wisely asked me if I would come back to the engine crew instead. I agreed, just happy that I was going to be back on the hill. One awesome aspect of where Boise Hotshots are stationed is that the engine and helitack also share the compound. So I would be close to my old crew.

I thought I had returned to the job in decent enough shape but the mountain told me otherwise.

It is a good thing I went back to an engine because I was severely out of shape. I was definitely not a hotshot anymore. My hiking legs were blown out as they were tested on my first fire with the engine. I would find that my physical strength and fitness now something of a major struggle. Where I used to excel, I now found a very weak link. It would end up taking years to actually get me legs back underneath me. I spent three seasons with engine 461 from 2018 to 2020. For the most part I was able to manage my disease, and tackle the list of new obstacles that it would bring. As well as continue living away from home, and fight fire with no real issues during those years. And I’m so grateful that the Boise National Forest took me back and gave me the opportunity to once again do what I love. I’ll be forever thankful to my Boise Family. I don’t know if they understand how much h that time meant to me.

2020 would be my last year on the Boise. I wish I could have stayed and long to go back but i returned home to California after that season. In 2021, I was hired by Cal Fire. Working with this new agency, there have been a few perks added to job that have helped make managing lupus a little more comfortable. My first season in blue pants, I really had no issues. However my sickness still persists and new symptoms have developed. I’ve had to deal with debilitating joint pain to the point where I’ve had to go home from shifts and / or have had to call out sick leaving me with that feeling of letting the team down. I have developed kidney issues where I now piss micro amounts of blood and proteins. Last season I suffered another blood clot, this time a DVT in my leg. And currently, I’ve been off work for two months and on temporary disability because I’ve been recently having an anemic issue. During this time I’ve had to have multiple medical procedures to see if I’m bleeding internally and also blood transfusions and iron infusions. I’ve missed this time at work but I also understand that I need this time for my body to recover. My disease holds me back from some things I want to do but it hasn’t restrained me completely. I’ve still been able to fight fire at a high level, but Lupus seems to have a bit of its own temperament. Flares come in waves or are set off by certain triggers that I’m continually learning or finding. One day I feel great. The next day, I’m at the mercy of a new frustrating symptom. Doctors remind me more of drug pushers when the only real answer they’ve ever had for me is to add another prescription. I don’t feel healthier or stronger than I did a few years ago.

I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t been hard. This disorder in my life has changed much about me and how I go about my business. I’ve had to adapt and evolve. But Lupus has changed something else about me. It’s changed my mind on a lot of things. I used to pride myself on my physical stature. Now, I understand how weak and fragile I actually am. Now I must rely on God for my strength. It has slowed down my pace and probably for good reason. Looking back at my early seasons of fire, I was a selfish fireman.

Now, I understand how much it takes the whole team to get the job done. It even takes the guy who is struggling to get up the hill. Because I’ve been that guy. I am that guy now. I’ve told myself that if I ever felt like my disease would somehow put someone else’s life at risk that I would hang ‘em up.

Recently, I have had to take myself out of the game. But even with all that, I actually hope my story and experience encourages and maybe even inspires others to just keep pushing up whatever hill they’re facing. Maybe I’m just trying to encourage myself. Maybe this is just a pep talk because I know how fulfilling firefighting can be and I don’t want to leave the job. Maybe I’m stubborn. I love it too much. I just think about all the hotshots up in hotshot heaven, keeping us safe, who can’t do the job any more. So I actually feel like one of the lucky ones. Being able to work and do what I love in spite of my affliction is truly a blessing. A lot of people don’t get that chance.