It’s like waiting for Christmas except there are no gifts, no excitement, no fun – just anxiety. Chemo is in a few hours and my nerves are on edge, my fears are at the forefront, and the tears are holding back. I know it is going to go OK, so everyone says, and I know that, but it’s the after chemo that is affecting my psyche. All the ‘what ifs’ are the problem, why can’t those thoughts just be banned from my mind? Why do they haunt me?
I am terrified I still have the staph infection lingering somewhere in my body, silent, waiting, conniving, searching for the right moment to appear on the outside – fever, swelling, redness, PAIN. Will my body be able to take it, will I fight, can I fight – ability is everything, will I still have the ability to push it away and kill it. Chemo can’t differentiate between the good and bad cells swimming in my body, so as it kills my good cells, my little warriors, it kills my ability. That is helplessness. My brain can will my body all it wants, and positive thoughts can swirl around galore, but that doesn’t make the infection go away. I need my little warriors to do that.
Stupid thoughts I have, and they just keep running through my mind. What if it kills me, what if I get so sick I am in the hospital forever, will Jeremy still be here – will he want to, will I be done with this in a year and go back to normal, will I play softball again, competitively of course? Right now, nothing seems like it will be back to normal, nothing feels like it is progressing to the right place. I need to sleep more, need to relax more, need something more.
I had those other thoughts again too – the “why me” ones, that always creep in. What did I do, why pick me to go through this over someone else, am I really that bad? And I know it is nothing I did, I get that, but it doesn’t stop those negative thoughts from creeping in and ruining your positive outlook you are trying to have. I contemplated a stomping mat for myself as I did for my high school team last year, the girls stomped on it to symbolize beating one of our rivals – DIRT – the name of the actual team will remain anonymous. Maybe that is what I need to get through this, something to spit on, step on, kick, that symbolizes me kicking cancer’s ass.
On a great note, I am looking forward to getting back involved with my coaching at Philomath. Saw all the girls yesterday and they make me laugh, a lot. To be that age again, when all you care about is hanging out, a little homework, athletics, and having fun. There aren’t any cares at all, no real responsibility. Coaching them and being around them gives me that feeling for a small fraction of time, and I appreciate it. Besides, I love coaching, love the game, love learning what motivates one over the other. For me, more than ever, there are no obstacles that can’t be overcome. Maybe, somehow, my fight will carry over into the season, and will spark a new sense of fight and passion within the players – we will beat DIRT, and all others, because the fear of “I CAN’T,” has left the field, only to be replaced with, “I CAN,” and “I WILL!”
So, here goes nothing folks, off to chemo and the unknown. Should I throw a party?
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