MIAMI -- For Chris Bosh, the hardest part of the path from near death back to normalcy was saying no.
Eventually, Bosh relented.
So Adrienne Bosh brought the couple's two toddler children, Jackson and Dylan, to the hospital to see him during those dreadful initial days in February. Before then, Bosh was only seen as a nearly 7-foot gentle giant roaming the house, strong enough to toss Jackson, 3, and Dylan, 2, high into the sky yet soft-spoken enough to mimic voices of characters in the children's books he reads to them.
Eight months have passed since blood clots were discovered on Bosh's lungs during the All-Star break in February. The diagnosis left the Miami Heat forward hospitalized for nine days, fearing first for his life, then for his decorated career. It forced a different image of Bosh to emerge.
With medical tubes inserted in his chest to keep his lungs functioning and powerful medication in his system that often rendered him drowsy and weak, Bosh wanted to say no. Of course he loves his kids. But he refused to allow them to see him like that. A 10-time NBA All-Star who helped lead the Heat to four Finals and two championships, Bosh makes his daily living by battling some of the strongest power forwards and centers in the game, some of whom outweigh him by 50 pounds.
But in that condition in February, he just didn't have the strength to stand his ground.
"I didn't want them to come too many days, so I made sure they only were there one day," Bosh told ESPN.com as he reflected on the most difficult periods of his long recovery. "[Adrienne] got them all dressed up to come, and I was like, 'OK, I have to do this for them. I just have to show them I can be strong, that Daddy was OK.' But after that, we kind of just left it there. I didn't want them to worry about me and think -- I didn't want them to be traumatized by me in that situation. So I just stuck to my guns."
That stubbornness and determination -- amid the excruciating early decisions and challenges from days in the hospital -- are what got Bosh back on his feet. Now, they're keeping him on pace to restore his career after he missed the final 30 games of last season while recovering from a pulmonary embolism and an infection that left fluid flooding his lungs.
On Tuesday, Bosh takes the next in a series of steps toward restoration when the Heat travel to Louisville for a preseason game Wednesday against the Orlando Magic. In his first training camp practice a week ago, Bosh was so pumped with adrenaline that he remained on the court alone for an extra 30 minutes after the first of two daily workouts. He alternated repetitions of 20 jumpers from each wing.
During his first preseason game Sunday, Bosh overcame nervous energy in his first home contest since Feb. 9 by making his first three shots and leading the Heat with 14 points and seven rebounds in 23 minutes during a loss to Charlotte. On Tuesday, he will board his first team flight and take a series of recommended precautions, including wearing compression tights and socks, getting up for walks through the cabin to maintain circulation and, if needed, taking baby aspirin.
"I'm not paranoid," Bosh, 31, said. "But I'm very aware."
Doctors have told Bosh he does not carry the genetic traits that would likely cause a recurrence of clots. His problem stemmed from a bruised calf sustained during a game in December in Utah. The bruise formed a clot that eventually traveled to one of his lungs.
Bosh's journey through rehabilitation has been a process that has rejuvenated both his body and his spirit.
"I take it as though I got rest. I've had all this time to really build back up," Bosh said. "I've done everything necessary to get to this point. Training camp was the benchmark for me. Luckily, my body didn't feel all crazy, so I'm just rolling with it right now. I'm back playing basketball, so my mental health is back where it is supposed to be."
As Bosh worked himself back into physical condition, there was no shortage of Heat staffers and teammates to lean on, many of whom have had unique experiences dealing with life-altering comebacks.
Heat forward Luol Deng was regularly alongside Bosh for some post-practice workouts last week during training camp on the campus of Florida Atlantic University. Deng and Bosh also grew closer late the past season, after Bosh was released from the hospital and started attending more Heat games.
Deng endured his own season-ending health scare three years ago, when, playing with the Chicago Bulls, a botched spinal tap procedure led to a series of infections and multiple hospital stays. Now, Deng and Bosh have a shared experience and a deeper perspective on balancing life and basketball.
"We talk, and I think sometimes you really think things are bad for you until something worse happens," Deng said. "We get used to breaking something or spraining or tearing something, and you get used to recovering from that because you've been doing this since you were a kid. It comes with the game. But when you're put in a hospital to stay, it totally changes your perspective on things."
Deng said he and Bosh have talked about the sobering realities of feeling completely helpless in a hospital bed and wondering if your life -- let alone career -- will ever be the same.
"I'm not paranoid, but I'm very aware." Chris Bosh
"I'm sure it was the same with Chris, but when I was in the hospital, and you're seeing people who have been there for weeks and months, you realize every day is a blessing," he said. "But you still have so many things you have to relearn to do, [such as] just getting up on your own and using the bathroom, things you just never usually have to think twice about it. It makes you really appreciate the little things -- just to be able to stand up and walk -- instead of crying and bitching over things that don't, later on, really matter."
Bosh is back to sprinting the length of the court, catching passes from Goran Dragic and shooting feathery jumpers in transition. Eight months ago, there were days when he could barely walk across his room more than a few times before crashing back to bed out of exhaustion at Miami's Baptist Hospital.
Less than three months after he was released, Bosh was at the AmericanAirlines Arena practice facility pushing through some excruciating initial workouts while his body was being weaned off blood thinners. If there were ever a time when real doubt about returning to peak form crept into Bosh's mind, it was then.
"I was sore an entire month," Bosh said. "Before I went on vacation in May, I went to the arena for about two weeks. I got in six total days on the court. I was worried a little bit, but that's just me getting older and having to realize that getting back into shape only gets harder. I had to get through that."
It was during that process -- those individual workouts before and after vacation -- that Bosh would see members of the Heat's staff. There would be passing chats with former Heat icon and Hall of Fame center Alonzo Mourning, whose career was interrupted 15 years ago by a kidney transplant.
Bosh said his conversations with Mourning never included specifics about how the current Heat executive coped with his own comeback. But Bosh said he knows Mourning would be a valuable resource if he ever needed to knock on the door and talk.
"He would always tell me he was praying for me and wanted to see me back out there," Bosh said of Mourning. "We'd always talk about other stuff. I never asked him how he bounced back, but I'm sure I will at some point. Once I started to see improvement in those workouts and got my wind back, I knew I was going to be OK. It just took a while. I just had to keep progressing."
Overcoming physical hurdles was only half the battle for Bosh. Heat guard Dwyane Wade was there to assist with the emotional aspects of recovery -- even if he didn't always know it. Because the two stars live eight houses apart in the same waterfront neighborhood, there were many days when Wade would walk through his home and find Bosh had already entered and was posted up in the game room.
Remember the Bruh Man character from the sitcom "Martin"? That was Bosh at Wade's house.
"He just came over one time and saw me watching TV," Wade said. "He came in like, 'What you doing?' and I'm like, 'Watching TV. What you want to watch?' Then my chef cooked me something to eat. We asked Chris if he wanted something to eat, and he was like, 'Yeah.' We ate, and then he left."
In the initial weeks out of the hospital, Bosh would drive. Later, he would walk the couple blocks to Wade's house to get some decent exercise. Bosh was motivated to get to Wade's house as often as he could because of the affair he was having, essentially.
Bosh's mistress?
"Mrs. Pac-Man," Wade confessed. "I've got some classic, arcade-style game units in my house, and Chris stayed on that thing. I went upstairs to get a massage one time. I came back down two hours later, and he was still down there playing it. I'm like, 'Aren't you ready to go home?'"
As Bosh was regaining his health, he was also restoring his confidence in his game and reconnecting with his family, friends and teammates. Healing was a wholesome experience.
"I could tell that it was something that he needed," Wade said. "For all of us, especially for him, it was a life-altering situation, and it opened his eyes up to the little things you take for granted. I think he tried to get back to that a little bit, something as simple as hanging out with good friends and enjoying the lifestyle we're blessed to have. I think he made more of a conscious effort to do that."
Bosh remains a work in progress on many fronts, but he routinely stops to assess how far he has come. He's two years into a five-year, $118 million contact, he travels the world in the offseason, and he has outside business and philanthropic interests in everything from computer programming to fashion.
"There's no level of perspective that can ever prepare you for walking into that hospital room and seeing [Bosh] laid out on that bed with tubes coming out of him. It shows you how fragile it all is." Heat coach Erik Spoelstra
But eight months after a health crisis threatened to extinguish his career, Bosh's passion for basketball has never burned hotter. Heat coach Erik Spoelstra has experienced how delicate these moments are in the sport. He was a point guard at the University of Portland and on the court on March 4, 1990, when Loyola Marymount forward Hank Gathers collapsed and died during a game.
"There's no level of perspective that can ever prepare you for walking into that hospital room and seeing [Bosh] laid out on that bed with tubes coming out of him," Spoelstra said of his first hospital visit to Bosh. "You don't expect to see one of your warriors go from scoring 30 points in a game to, 10 days later, looking like that. It shows you how fragile it all is. We live in this bubble at times, and when something can potentially burst that bubble, it shakes you."
Spoelstra said it's gratifying to finally see Bosh happy and healthy after "holding your breath the whole summer" while hoping for a full recovery for the person, first, and then the player. Although Bosh believes he played for at least a month with what turned out to be clots traveling through his body, he is just thankful that he had the chance to fight for his life and eventually resume playing the game.
Thirteen years into his career, Bosh has the enthusiasm of a rookie approaching his first season.
He knows Adrienne and the kids are watching closely.
"I have to go out and play as hard as I can, just give them confidence because I know she'll be worried if I'm not," Bosh said of his wife, who sits courtside with the kids at home games. "We've talked about this, dreamed about it. If I'm kind of just moseying around, she'll wonder. But if I get her into the game by getting going myself, she'll get going. I'll look over there and yell, 'Come on, girl, let's get this.'"
Then, she and the kids will know the gentle giant of the house is back.