Significant moments

Here we are, at the 20th anniversary of Field of Dreams. I can remember sitting in a theater in Orange County, on a business trip with nothing to do at night, wondering if I was the only guy in the theater crying. WP Kinsella’s book came to life, and ever time little Karin explains that “people will come, Daddy” I think back to the six year old in my home, poring over box scores and attending to the scorebook at Oakland/Alameda County Coliseum.

For all the quotes about baseball, for all the cute comments about Moonlight Graham getting one last chance—or for a father and son playing catch, one of the comments that strikes me the deepest is, “We just don’t recognize the most significant moments in our lives…” Terrence Mann has to remind Ray Kinsella, as they try to define the manner in which they will “go the distance.”

Today, I was prepared for two options. I was ready to hear a great report, and knew that I’d be able to “go the distance” in order to attain many more significant moments. If negative, I was also prepared to see that once I crossed the baseline, I wouldn’t be able to go back, just like Doc Graham. I’d make my way through the medical issues, challenges and possible defeats of a really bad report.

I was not prepared, mentally, for “gee, it is about the same.” The diagnostics indicate that nothing has gotten bigger, nothing has disappeared. You may remember that this is the same sort of result thing we learned about a year ago, before the liver lesions mysteriously disappeared for the summer. So I suppose I should measure this as a significant moment, and remember that there are continued options, we can continue to TCTFO, and get myself back in the game at work.

I’d be lying if I said it was easy to do that. I feel as though I carry a huge weight around. I keep telling my body to do good things, and it responds however it wants. I try to keep my attitude up, because some believe that attitude improves cancer outcomes (not proven in the literature, but a good approach nonetheless). I try to get exercise, manage my workload, demonstrate flexibility in my approach to the solutions suggested by my oncology team.

The good news is that I’m surrounded by people who make the game so much fun. “Ty Cobb wanted to play, but none of us could stand the SOB when he was alive, so we told him no…” It is almost impossible to get through a work day without someone calling to check in, sending me a funny joke, or adding some caring thoughts to their “business email.” I appreciate it, and do my best not to think about the time it distracts from work. If The Doctors Company doesn’t like it, they can turn me into a non-exempt employee.

Thanks, then…for going the distance. I have no idea what Terrence Mann may find in the corn patch beyond left field, and that’s as curious for me as we plan ahead. Currently, the plan is for 2-3 more targeted infusion sessions, likely in March and April, and we’ll see what’s happened with the “Fields of Lesions” by then. For now, let’s just head to spring training, vacations, and baseball season with loving anticipation and trust. Annie trusted that idiot husband of hers when he plowed up the cornfield, we can certainly trust each other.

Meanwhile, two important family efforts can be monitored via blogs, too. Check out Lizzy's run for the Foundation at her blog...http://www.lizdepriest.blogspot.com/

and Nate is making a run for Portland, weather permitting...here:
http://nate-thejourney.blogspot.com/

Mark