"Make your mess your message."
"When fear knocks, let faith answer the door."
When I was in the height of my playing days, I was inspired by Briana Scurry more than anyone else. I trained nonstop and planned to play Division 1 college soccer, then professional. If there wasn't a league, I fully intended on being a part of forming that. I was going to do it. It took 5 knee surgeries in my high school years to put the brakes on those plans. I'm stubborn, if nothing else. Michelle Akers took over as my hero; another female soccer superstar, only one with extreme health problems.
A lot has happened in my life in the last decade since I graduated from high school. Regretfully, knee surgeries are looking like a cake walk in comparison to the health struggles I now face. I have adjusted to life as a dedicated sports fan, as well as one can. I coached, until my health made me stop. I played in adult leagues, until my health made me stop. My now-husband was the Sports Editor of the newspaper that I was the Editor-in-Chief of in college. Sports will forever be a huge focus in my life. My sorrow is that struggle after struggle, they keep being taken away from me, to the point that I am now just another fan on the couch.
I do vote for the ESPYs, and watch the show, despite arguing with most of the awards and feeling that my fellow fans are mostly idiots if they vote the way they do. Still, how can I not vote and watch the spectacle? Last year I vividly remember the bonding experience of voting with my dad, who was much too busy to watch the amount of sports programs I did. So I showed him the video clips of each category and we voted together.
This year I voted alone, occasionally inviting Kevin to give his two cents. Tonight, I went to dinner for 6 at my family's favorite hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant, as an early birthday dinner for ME (July 23, turning 27). I had time for an hour long nap before the ESPYs, because my medication sucks. I could've been asleep for the night at 8pm. Kevin woke me though, knowing I've been looking forward to the debacle.
Over the past few years, I've taken great joy in seeing how women's sports and specifically women's soccer have become more a part of the ESPYs. However, this year the number one moment for me was watching Robin Roberts receive the Arthur Ashe Courage Award. Roberts has already greatly affected my summer with the Nine for IX ESPN feature series she produced.
Roberts has quickly taken over as my newest inspiration. She was a strong athlete, turned sports journalist, turned major broadcast journalist. Then she became a cancer survivor, and again last year beat death again in the form of MDS (an illness caused by cancer medications -- pay attention to science news: chemo causes nearly as many problems as it solves!). Robin faced both her illnesses with incredible courage, and all under the public eye, in a way that NO ONE has.
I relate so much to her struggles, and the things she said in her acceptance speech. Now, I admit both cancer and MDS are life-threatening; none of my several diagnoses are terminal. However, none of my diagnoses have a cure. So in a way, for me, that balances things out. She could have died from either condition; for me, the fear isn't death, it's life like this.
She fought her battle in the public eye, and showed how vulnerability can equal strength in a unique way. I have always been an open book, except in matters that make me scared or hurt. I'll tell you anything I think or feel or have done, unless it is something that might make me cry. Over the last several years, one of my life/spiritual journeys was finding the courage to be vulnerable. One of the ways I've put that into practice is not being able to cry in front of people.
A much more significant way I've practiced that life lesson is, duh, this very blog. I strive to have the courage and strength to invite any of my readers, friends, and family members into my life. To share my utmost weaknesses and fears, in hopes that it can be a two-way street of you all helping me, and me helping you.
If you didn't watch that video at the top, please go watch it. If you did, watch it again and think of me. Because I watched it real time, sprawled on the couch hugging Blaze with Kevin petting my hair. And God love him, with that animal instinct, when I started crying, Blaze literally hugged me. He wasn't just laying alongside me; he tucked his neck around mine, then licked my tears. He knows things.
I am scared that my life will always be like this. I am scared that I will never get better. I am scared that I will only get worse. I haven't been given much reason from the medical community to think anything different. I am told things like, "make sure you have a good therapist" and I am asked why my insane cocktail of medications does not include an anti-depressant. Some days I feel that I've lost the fight in me, and on those days I just hold on til the next day. I feel I have lost most of my dignity and strength. I do not drive more than a few miles alone; if I have to drive farther than that I have to skip medications. I live like a child, or an elderly person, in that I have to be bathed. I cut 9 inches off of my hair because I can't wash or style it. I don't shower or dress alone. I cannot be left alone for long, because I forget almost everything short-term, like to take my pills in 5 minutes.
Showering with your SO isn't sexy when it is your routine to be bathed. Being brought breakfast or coffee in bed doesn't seem special those things are the only way for me to physically be able to get out of bed. I am a week from turning 27. I should be living vibrantly. I should be in my physical prime. The athlete I once was should've stayed fit into her mid-20s. I should NOT be living this way. Nor should my 29-year old husband. Most people cannot imagine what our life is like, and I wish it on no one. Yet through this, people think I look well. I have to fight and beg and plead to get put on disability. I got kicked off of my insurance because of my health conditions (shouldn't that be illegal?!).
Listening to Robin Roberts' speech it dawned on me that continuing to be even more forthcoming is the only thing to do. Sharing my struggles, my pain, my devastation, is currently what I have to contribute to the world. It's also the only way I can ask or hope that my loved ones will understand.
My Aunt Angie told me she'd put money down on me getting better, and I had to call her out on having little experience with betting since she seems to miss the concept. I told her maybe we'd all be better off if she picked up the money and instead spent time talking to the big guy upstairs.
For the Roberts video alone, I feel this is my most important blog post to date. But in the near future you will (finally) see the post detailing my specific health conditions and what they entail. That will also be hugely important, because most of you don't know my actual conditions. And even those of you that do will, sadly, find a new condition on that list. One that has flipped my world upside down again in the last few days. Thanks for reading, praying, caring, loving, etc... And in the near future, as things take the turn for the worse that seems to be coming, thanks in advance for your love and support. And again, please rewatch that video. I can't without crying.
