Gratitude and Gator Basketball

As anyone who spends more than about 72 seconds with me figures out, I'm a huge University of Florida Gators sports fan (sorry, not just going with saying Florida Gators, trying to be considerate of my international readers.)  I graduated from Florida, my daughter graduated from Florida and, as my friend Harrison said on Facebook, "I love the University of Florida. As an institution, it connected me with lifelong friends, prepared me for future success, and gave me some of the best teams in the country to cheer for. It's great to be a Florida Gator."

This year, the men's basketball team had a particularly good year.   Pre-season, they were ranked 8th primarily because they were only returning 2 starters and the roster wasn't chock-full of the highly rated superstars.  But the guys came together, improved as individuals, played as a team, went on an historic winning streak and lost in the semi-finals of the NCAA tournament.  Yes, I was bummed they lost.  Not because it denied me bragging rights as a fan but because it meant that I wouldn't have an opportunity to watch this group play anymore. They were, to me, the embodiment of "team."

One Saturday morning in mid-February, I got a phone call from my friend, Patrick, a fellow Gator living in Columbus whom I met through the Columbus Gator Club.  Patrick has been a great friend in our time in Columbus and never more so than during my diagnosis and treatment.  That morning, he wanted to know if I'd like two tickets to see the Gators play Kentucky that night in Rupp Arena.  Say what?!?!?  Gators were 16 games into a winning streak that would eventually reach 30 games and were ranked #3 and Kentucky #14.  In 17 tries at Rupp, Coach Donovan had only won 3 times.  Of course I'd like them!!!

Patrick's father is a farmer in Kentucky, long time Kentucky basketball supporter and has first row seats in a corner of the arena next to the student section.  I couldn't believe that Patrick would offer these seats to me.  He told me that his daughter had a basketball tournament with games going too late for him to get to Rupp for the 9PM tipoff.

Alan was working that night and Amy had plans so Claire needed to be my partner in crime.  She's a big Gator sports fan, too, but predicting the behavior of a 16-year-old girl is difficult.  She was asleep when Patrick called so my plan was to wait for her to wake up, ask her and if she wanted to go and, if she didn't, burn up the phone lines to other Gator club members looking for someone to go with me.

When she got up around noon, I non-chalantly told her about the tickets and asked if she'd like to go.  Her eyes lit up and she said, "YEAH!"  Alright!  We took off for the 3-1/2 hour drive to Rupp around 4 PM leaving ourselves plenty of time for traffic and parking.  We got to Rupp just when they were opening the doors and had time to walk around and take in the history of the place.  The seats were great, the Kentucky fans welcoming and a Gator win made the night.

Here's some of the photographic evidence.

The view from our seats, taken with my phone.

The game finished a little after 11 and it was close to midnight before we got out of Lexington and on to the interstate, facing a drive of over 3 hours.  Now, I usually like to drive fast and that night, I had an extra incentive to get home as quickly as I could.  I felt like I was racing against my consciousness.  I knew I'd start getting sleepy soon and wanted to use my alert time to get in as many miles as I could.  The plan was to try to get home that night, but if I just couldn't make it, to stop in a roadside motel to sleep and come home in the morning.  It was starting to snow lightly that night which might make travel slower but....I had made plans to go skiing with my other daughter Amy and her husband Sean the next day, so for that, the snow was welcome.

Yes, from a purely objective perspective, making plans to go skiing after driving until 3 am that morning seems silly.  But, I've always been one to try to do a lot, maybe too much by some peoples' standards.  Knowing how limiting my disease and treatment had been over the last year, and that it could return at any time, I now have a compulsion to take advantage of opportunities to have fun. When I push myself, it also gives me an chance to validate to myself that "I'm back"--I can do the things, and function at the level from before my diagnosis and treatment.  Just a big middle finger in the face of amyloidosis.  Yes, I'm not afraid to poke the bear.

About 45 minutes out of Lexington on I-75, I was driving a wee-smidge over 80 mph.  I'll leave it to your imagination to quantify "wee-smidge".  The road was still clear but the snow was starting.  I was driving in the left lane and as I came to a bend in the road, I saw some snow in my lane.  There was a car about 1/2 car length behind me in the center lane so, to use Al's term, I punched it to get ahead of it so I could change lanes and avoid the snow.  Well, about 15 seconds after my NASCAR-esque maneuver,  the lights from a police car appeared behind me and I was pulled over.

The Kentucky State Policeman took my license and insurance card and listened to my explanation.  He was very cordial, told me I was only getting a warning and asked me to "slow it down a bit" so I could make it home safely.  Wow, no ticket...that NEVER happens.  Well, to understand what most likely prevented the ticket, you should see the my driver's license picture.  My license expired on my birthday this year which was only 2 months after my transplant.  Here's the face that the policeman saw smiling up from my license.  I told Claire that he either wanted to make sure I wasn't drunk, saw the logic of my actions, didn't want the bad karma from giving the "cancer lady" a ticket or thought to himself, "Of course she's speeding, she SHOULD be in a hurry, SHE'S GOT CANCER!!!"  Whichever it was, I'm glad I didn't get the ticket.  I had been debating "losing" my license so I could get a new picture.  Given my lead foot, I think I just might keep this one until it expires in 2017.

I was really sleepy toward the end of the drive and Claire drove the last 45 minutes.  We got home safely about 3 am.  I got up that morning about 10 and met Sean and Amy.  Sean drove the hour up to Snow Trails and we had a great time skiing together for several hours.  Not a bad 2 days for a 50+ year old lady less than one year after a stem cell transplant.

It was another validation that I could push myself and hold up pretty well.  If the Gators had not been doing so well, I doubt I would have been motivated to make that drive to and from Kentucky in one day.  It was also another validation of how caring and loving folks have been to me throughout this entire journey.  During the drive, I thought about Patrick giving me the tickets and felt badly that he missed a historic Gator win in Rupp.

I wondered about the reason he couldn't go.  Patrick's daughter is in middle school and this was a mid-season tournament.  I was a little surprised that he wouldn't go to the game, knowing that he's as big a Gator fan as me, if not more so.  (He did serve as Albert, the UF mascot, while he was in school so I guess that automatically makes him "more Gator" than me.)  Patrick is in the Naval Reserves and has had two Middle East deployments since we met in 2006.  He said he's missed enough of his kids' activities already and didn't want to miss this tournament.   Patrick and I are friends on Facebook and I know from his "Likes" that he sees some of my updates.  The day before, I had posted this as my status--

"One year ago today, I had my first appointment with my gastroenterologist who eventually diagnosed my AL Amyloidosis, the man who punched my ticket for this crazy roller coaster. Over the next 14 days, I will "celebrate" the one year anniversary of--my father's death (2/18), my father's funeral (2/23), my diagnosis (2/25) and my first appointment with Dr. Efebera (2/28). All in the midst of a busy time at work. Here's hoping I can hold it together. If today was a preview, it ain't gonna be pretty."

As I pondered the real reason Patrick gave me the tickets, I wondered if maybe he did it to take me out of my funk. I realized that it was because he was being a great father or a great friend or, more likely, both.  For all the bad things that this disease has brought into my life, this was another example of the tokens of love and compassion that have been so frequent.

When first diagnosed, I would get overwhelmed with fear.  The fear subsided and was quickly replaced with being overwhelmed with gratitude.

So, thank you Patrick, thank you Gator basketball, and thanks to so many of you who have shown your love and care along the way.  There's a party this Friday to celebrate my First Stem Cell Birthday and thank everyone who's been there for us.  Let me know if you haven't gotten your invite and I'll send it along.  I've got so many people to thank!