I've been a big basketball fan all my life, back to the days when my Dad put the hoop up on the garage roof, to give his 4 boys something to do outside (so he and Mom could have peace inside - we're talking FOUR boys!) I played basketball in high school before donning stripes and a whistle to referee the game for 19 years. I spent all but 2 seasons at the college level, where the game was fluid and the players skills made the game much easier to officiate. In most games, you don't notice the officials at all, as you watch Kobe, Lebron, Durant and others display their talent and the ball moves quickly from end to end.
Until that one whistle, that one call, that brings the game to an abrupt halt. The flow of the game is interrupted for the players, and even the fans, and can have a dramatic impact on the outcome. It doesn't happen in every game, it doesn't always change the results, but as a fan, you know when that moment happens. As the referee who just blew air into that whistle, you feel it as the whistle goes off. It's all part of the game, a lonely part no doubt, but a piece of the game in total.
The whistle stopped play on Dec. 24th, when my Doctor made his call - you have cancer. I didn't argue the call (those who played ball w/ me won't believe that & will look for the replay on ESPN!), didn't ask for a timeout and didn't let the call change my game. I knew the game had a great flow for 51 years, and I wasn't going to let one call negatively affect that. There is still a lot of time left on that game clock, and I plan to play hard through the second half. While it was a big call, it's not bigger than the game itself.
You see, from an referee's point of view, it's not "the call", it's how the players and fans choose to respond to it. It's one call in a long game, and if you've been playing well up to that point, there is no reason you can't regain that performance, or perhaps rise to the occasion and take your game to the next level in response. In this game, I have the ball, not the whistle, and I'm still ready to play. I know there are many "fans" who have also gotten past "the call" and are now cheering me. I was having a great game up until "the call", so I'm committed to continue that performance and use it to make me stronger.
Today is halftime - the mid-point of my treatment plan. It's amazing how well I still feel and that makes it so much easier to keep a positive outlook on all of this. I feel so blessed that my body has responded so well to the treatment. Had dinner with a very good friend last night and look forward to a ride and dinner with another good friend on Thursday evening. With any luck, and better weather, I'll make it up the mountain to ski on Sat. How many people going through chemo/radiation get that opportunity? Blessed for sure.
Jim,thanks for sharing this journey,truly inspirational. In my opinion the camaraderie we share as patrollers is a result of our mutual experience. This camaraderie forms bonding sometimes as strong as family. As a family we share in both the triumphs and pitfalls that life throws at us. When Steve Renecker summitted Everest in 95 as patrollers we all shared in his accomplishment. When Terry Jesse departed last year we all felt the loss. What I am trying to convey Jim is that you are an important member of our patrol family. As a family we will be with you every step of this journey,through the good and bad. Patrolling with you I have learned that you do not do anything half assed, it is not surprising that you are bringing this attitude to your treatment plan. Jim I would love to do some riding with you in the near future, until then you will be in my thoughts and prayers.
ReplyDeleteBest Wishes
David Reed