Samuel Rogers had a whirlwind six-week romance with an Irishman in Boston in early 2023. It turned his life in a different direction and today he’s married, living in Dublin, doing a master’s in international peace studies and living with a rare disease.
Rogers is originally from a small island (about 200 households year-round) called Gibson, in Maryland’s Chesapeake Bay, about 90 minutes from Washington, DC. He has Irish heritage on both sides. After university in Florida, he served two years as a Peace Corps volunteer in North Macedonia, working as an English teacher in a mountain village.
Back in the US, Rogers was studying for a master’s in law and diplomacy at Tufts in Boston when, in March 2023, he met Ralph Hurley O’Dwyer, a doctor from Newbridge, Co Kildare, who was doing an MSc in public health.
“It was kind of a whirlwind. We only had about six weeks in person, then we were both leaving to do separate things. But it was such a strong connection. Those six weeks, we knew that was it. I told my friends, this is it, I saw this man, I love this man. He felt the same way.”
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Rogers was heading on a government scholarship to Turkey and Hurley O’Dwyer was returning to Ireland to work in public health. “It was kind of wild. He said, ‘we are going to see each other every single month until we live together’.” And they did – a six-month long-distance relationship involving multiple transatlantic trips.
In November 2023, they got married in Boston and then moved to Dublin.
Two weeks earlier, Rogers had been diagnosed with a rare autoimmune condition, Behçet’s disease. This is rare and serious, involving systemic body-wide inflammation, and can lead to blindness.
Five years looking for a diagnosis had been a struggle, “so devastating, so taxing. My whole life sort of ground to a halt during the process. I had to drop out of graduate school. I was afraid I was going to lose my job. At doctors’ appointments oftentimes you’re made to feel you’re a problem patient, that you’re making your symptoms up. I went to dozens of specialists trying to figure out what was happening. It involved intense self-advocacy.”
”I had lesions all over my body, ulcers in my mouth. I had gone from running marathons, working 40-hour weeks, full-time school, and my whole life had stopped.”
Eventually he was referred to a Boston rheumatologist who “changed my life by just listening to me, being kind and considerate and just taking my case really seriously. Within 20 minutes she had figured out what was going on. She said I could move on from the past, everything starts over. It was such a message of hope.”
He had been going through all this when he fell in love. “He is just the kindest and most supportive person. He has a Herculean patience with me, just a gentle, kind spirit. And he shows that to everyone in his life. I feel like the luckiest man in the world. I also feel really grateful to Hurley O’Dwyer’s parents and his family. I met and married their son, and then we moved into their house with my cat for over a month while we got our own home. They are so welcoming and generous and kind. His family has been truly wonderful to me throughout the whole process. I feel so supported.”
As well as ulcers, Behçet’s can involve neurological complications, stroke, blindness, recurring unexplained fever, body-aches, arthritis-symptoms, crippling fatigue. “I spent weeks in bed. It was difficult to get up to drink water. Your entire body feels under attack, like swimming through jello.” Even now it can be unpredictable, but for most people if Behçet’s is controlled, a largely normal life can be lived, though it’s unpredictable.
“I’m receiving wonderful care from the Mater in Dublin. My rheumatologist there is incredible.” A medication regime “has given me the space to take back my life”. He wondered about the wisdom of returning to education, but “with pacing” and support from Trinity College’s disability service, he’s doing a master’s. “A lot comes down to being okay with slowing down, taking breaks. I had an unhealthy attitude towards work and life, and didn’t feel worthy as a human unless I was working to the bone. I had to rewire and be okay with listening to my body and resting sometimes, because I have no other choice.”
Despite navigating life with a rare disease, “I’ve been settling into life here. I love living in Dublin. It’s a beautiful city. I moved in the depths of winter. The darkness. He was working long hours, I was working remotely, and the adjustment ... it was a tough period. We for the most part feel very safe as a gay couple. Mostly it’s not even really commented on, which is really nice. Some places, when we walk around Dublin we don’t hold hands.”
He finds Donald Trump is often the first thing people mention to him, which is difficult because “I have a deep sense of grief about what’s happening. It can be jarring when sometimes people are laughing or making light about it, almost like entertainment. Maybe this is changing because of how serious it continues to get. There’s a lot of pain, a lot of desperation being exploited by the Maga movement. It’s sad to watch the manipulation, to watch my country undergo this, and I have trouble with people laughing, because it’s deeply painful.
“I know people who are losing their jobs, who’re really scared. I’ve had conversations with friends, people crying on the phone, who don’t know what to do. It’s a scary time.”
Most aspects of moving went smoothly, though he did face that thorny “conundrum”, where you can’t open a bank account without proof of address from a utility bill, but can’t set up a bill without a bank account. (He eventually found a way around it with a waste bill, using his US account and Irish address.)
In Boston he had MassHealth free state healthcare as his student income was low. His experience of the Irish health service has been largely positive. It can involve waits, but he’s also experienced humanity and empathy, and flexibility with appointments. He worries about what would happen “if something acute happened”.
A rare disease affects everything – career, planning, finances. “It takes you to a mental space when you have no idea what’s happening.” He’s keen on pushing awareness of rare diseases, and the need for listening and empathy, and healthcare professionals believing patients.
He loves the M.Phil. His research area is military conscription, “an intense topic, especially in these times, with more governments considering conscription”.
This year he and his husband will return to Gibson Island for a visit and a family wedding, when his sister, living in Liverpool, marries a Frenchman.
We would like to hear from people who have moved to Ireland. To get involved, email newtotheparish@irishtimes.com
