Stands With a Fist

Stands with a fist

Today is S^2C day.  That means stand up to cancer in license plate speak.  The media has been really giving cancer a lot of attention lately.  The MLB all-star game had a stand up moment where people held up signs with names of friends or family who were battling cancer.  And of course the NFL has Pinktober just around the corner.  I think it is great that so much attention is focused on cancer.  I also think it is sad because it is obvious how much it affects us and the ones we love. As for me, I gutted through another week of no ice or cold, mixed in a root canal, and found out my port-o-catheter has shifted a tad…nothing at which to be alarmed yet, but something to keep an eye on.  They now have to stick the needle in at an angle, which we learned the hard way the first time on Thursday. It is still solidly connected with good flow and I have another side should it come to needing to install a second line.  And I can take a few sticks, no biggie.  No numbers this week, stay tuned for next week.

About 10 years ago when Nita and I were DINKs (double income no kids), and we were both doing pretty well; we discussed creating a scholarship to one of our high schools or the neighborhood school.  We used to sit and chat about an essay contest and how we would read each student’s submission then we would determine who would win our little contribution.  It made sense since writing was a big part of our lives.  Nita’s dad was a journalism major and was an editor for a very long time.  He even used to sign off his papers with -30-.  All the English teachers, majors, writers, and journalism students probably got a little chuckle.  To end the suspense and save you from googling, it means “the end.”

So then our beautiful amazing children came into our lives, Nita left her company partnership behind, and I went to a smaller company.  Our lifestyle definitely changed a bit.  I still thought that there were some big possibilities for us and had grandiose plans.  Those were interrupted by cancer and life became a lot more expensive and less flexible.  But it was still life and I was and am determined not to give in.  So this new chapter of my life has been filled with amazing new beginnings.  One of them will be the creation of a foundation that will benefit families dealing with terminal illnesses. I am proud to announce that once it is finally complete and we get some funding, our first distribution will be a scholarship for a college bound student whose life has been challenged with a parent (or sibling) dealing with a terminal illness.  As it turns out we’ll get to fulfill our vision from so many years ago. There may or may not be an essay as part of the application.

My best friend Omar is a movie fiend.  If you said, “he likes movies.” You would be understating it exponentially.  I may have mentioned that I caddied for him a few times (I know Pete is thinking, “May have mentioned…you never shut up about it”). But anyway, the normal routine was Monday check in, hit some balls, go see a movie.  Tuesday practice round then go see a movie.  Wednesday Pro-Am, go see a movie. Thursday tournament begins, if he played early and well…go see a movie.  You get the picture.  When we weren’t watching movies we were devouring Stephen King novels.

So I have a pretty large and diverse memory warehouse (get it?) of books and movies.  I have made allusions to many of them throughout the last year to try to provide a visual to capture the feeling in dealing with a particular issue.  This week has been a Dances With Wolves kind of week.  When you add in all the upsets in College football, you have a week filled with dogs prevailing (the lower ranked team in a sports contest is traditionally called the underdog or “dog” for short).  So now I’ve saved my sports fans and my English majors each a google trip.  If you remember specifically in Dances, the heroine of the story was a woman who was raised by a Sioux tribe.  Apparently as a child when her family was killed she stood defiantly with her fist in the air.  The name given to her was “Stands With a Fist (I’m not sure how the capitalization rules go for Sioux names).”

We had to break up with our television provider this week.  For three straight weeks we haven’t had any television service.  None.  We’ve been able to watch Netflix, DVDs, and DVRed shows, but no live television.  It took three weeks because the kind and more gentle Marco who is trying very hard to find unconditional positive warmth and acceptance tried to be patient, but could not forgive having zero service during week one of college football season.  Thank God for small miracles.  Those were, in no specific order, that a couple of Aggie buddies (Tony and Dennis) had an extra ticket to the UCLA game and took me with them.  I got a little overheated at the game, but found a fan to stand in front of for a while near the concession stand with TV feeds.  And with the cold/ice thing I couldn’t just knock back a big glass of iced water, or even do the ice on your wrists trick.  (By the way, it’s an old EMT trick.  If you find yourself overheating, hold some ice between your wrists. The place where you check your pulse, and it will cool you down WAY faster than drinking water or a wet rag or anything else you’ve tried; if you don’t have ice you can use a cold water bottle or beer I suppose). Anyway, we sat in the North end zone and watched the Aggies blow up the higher ranked team, then give away a 15-point lead, and finally come back and win in overtime.  It was an amazing first game and kick off to what I’m calling my “new year.”

The next night was the Texas vs. Notre Dame game.  Living in Austin it isn’t hard to find Longhorn or Irish fans.  Our friends the Hammonds hosted a kid friendly game watching party and we were able to enjoy great friends and great food…and live television (which I will never again take for granted).  That too was an amazing contest and battle of wills.  My lovely wife marched in the Longhorn band during college and enjoyed being surrounded by so many allies.  As an aside, Omar’s nephew Austin marched in his first game this weekend…as part of the Longhorn band.  The following night, our friends the Morelock’s hosted the Ole Miss vs. Florida State game.  My buddies and I had a quick dinner for Mr. Giles’ birthday, then I high tailed it over for that one.  The underdog, unfortunately, did not win this one, much to the chagrin of our host and Rebs alum.

Nita dresses up the kids for the Sunday night game, Josie refuses to "hook 'em"

So after a crazy week 1, there were quite a few upsets and near misses by highly ranked teams.  And what exactly does that mean? Some teams were grossly overrated in the beginning?  Maybe, but I’m thinking that no matter who your opponent is, you stand up and fight.  No matter how daunting the task or bleak the outlook, you stand defiantly with a fist. 

 

The sports world loves underdogs.  The literary world loves underdogs.  And there are tons of Rudy type feel good movies were tenacity overcomes talent.  So as I sat in my chair this week getting fluids, I thought about the last year.  It was quite a ride.  There were times when I felt like I was winning and times when I thought I was about done.  Not through fighting, but just out of options.  But each time something would come along and keep me moving (just keep swimming).

I credit you fine folks with a lot of it.  Of course my children keep my priorities straight, my wife keeps me grounded, and combined they fill my heart with love.  But your love, energy, prayers, thoughtfulness, and support really do make a difference.  The amazing auction item donations for my event in December is mind blowing.  The items really do accommodate any type of interest.  From art, to sports stuff, to trips, vacation homes, Jewelry, toy baskets, and so much more.  Anyway, I’m sure you all remember that last sequence in Rudy when the entire stadium is chanting his name and the coach finally motions for him to run onto the field.  The crowd erupts and the rest of his team feed off that energy.  It’s kind of like that if you can believe it.  I mean it.  When I open my email and I see new recipes for cancer killing foods, or I get letters or cards from church groups, or someone sends a text to see how I’m doing.  When I get an acknowledgment that my blog made a difference in someone’s life either in the way they spend time with their families or that they have finally decided to get a pesky or embarrassing colon issue checked out, it makes a difference. 

I was talking to quite a few people this week and I honestly think that I was put on the earth for this.  This time, this moment.  That I am supposed to go through this and endure this struggle so that others can have a better life, make healthier decisions, maybe love each other a little more, and find forgiveness a bit quicker.  Maybe most importantly to help folks truly grasp and cherish the gift of time we have been given and to use it wisely. 

We’ve all been asked to take one for the team before, well I’ll take this one for the team.  Just promise to learn from my mistakes and I promise to keep fighting.  The kids keep thinking I’m going to get better because I never let them believe it is hopeless.  And you know what, it isn’t.  Never underestimate the underdog, no matter how highly rated the opponent. I’ve still got a lot left in the tank and perhaps we’re on a mission from God.  TeamMarco@austin.rr.com