My Smile for Fight

It was both the most awkward and the most hopeful I had felt in weeks. Standing in a hospital room at the foot of a bed occupied by someone who had gone from "just fine" to "discuss the options" within two months. And there I was - smiling.

I didn't receive a funny text message. I wasn't looking in the hallway at a little kid making a funny face, either. In fact, I wasn't smiling because something was funny.

The woman in the bed was my maternal grandma, with my mom, one of two daughters, standing bedside, ear pressed right near her face because strength didn't allow the vocal cords to work well enough or loudly enough for regular conversation. A variety of medical issues led doctors to discover that Grandma has stomach cancer and it's not going away on its own anytime soon. It's the "leading" ailment in what is destroying her body and the options for her are few.

But that's what had me smiling: she was ready to choose and her choice was to put the gloves back on and contest cancer.

The things I could make out from what she was telling Mom included asking if my aunt was around (she's a nurse at that hospital) or if anyone else would be there. She wanted opinions from all her kids about the next steps that she should take. She wanted to start radiation on her stomach.

From what little I understand about serious situations like this, there comes a point in time when the ill person can decide to keep going or let it end. By saying she wants to try radiation, Grandma essentially was saying, "Let's keep going. I'm not ready to go." Those were the words I had been waiting to hear from her for awhile now, considering our family's mainly German background that probably wouldn't stand for "letting some disease tell ME how long I'm going to live!!" There's nothing fun about losing someone you love, but it's moments like this that can make a somewhat dire situation just a little easier to endure.

Previously as a player, and now as a coach, I've always disliked teams and players that don't have to try hard to win, they just always do. I feel like there needs to be a battle, or many battles, on the road to being great. This contrasted to hearing how hard a team or player worked every single day to become a champion. No time off, no excuses, just 100% of what you got. And even if that team or player loses the game, it's more acceptable if they gave all they had.

Grandma's leaving it all on the field... now it's up to life whether it's a "winning" or a "losing" battle. But regardless of immediate outcome, we can be proud of the fight.