Bouncing Back

Today, I woke up like a child on Christmas Day. Duke was playing at Madison Square Garden, and Coach K and his assistant, Gerry, had hooked me up with tickets. I hadn’t even realized that the Duke team and I would be in New York City at the same time until my Duke bud Rosie reminded me of the Duke/St. John’s game scheduled for Sunday afternoon. I told Coach and Gerry that I’d be in the city on Sunday afternoon, and that’s all it took -- we were set. Before the game, I hung out with my old Duke pal (and Chemistry 11 lab partner), Eric, and his crew, happily catching up with them and anticipating a great Duke victory. The clock struck 12:30, and it was time to go -- my nurses and I walked up to Will Call and got our tickets, tickets that secured us some very sweet seats in the Garden. I was a very happy camper. 

And then, the game started.

We didn’t play great today (although Nolan racked up 30-something points and our other senior captain and future NBA star, Kyle Singler, added 20). But something was off from the get-go. Our defense wasn’t tenacious enough, our three pointers weren’t falling, and every time we had a chance to change the momentum of the game, we just couldn’t do it.

It was a bitter loss for me, because any Duke loss is a bitter one for me. The fact that a little over half the Garden consisted of loud and proud St. John’s fans didn’t make it easier. The fact that the St. John’s fans stormed the court after the game, reveling in their good fortune at beating Duke, didn’t make it easier, either.

When you love your team, watching them lose -- and watching them lose in a less-than-inspiring fashion, is painful. You want the best for your team and you hate to see them fail to fulfill their potential. You hate to see the opposing team's fans revel in their failure. You want your team to be great all the time. You want them to win all the time. Since I love my team so much, I feel all of these things even more strongly.

After the game, I was still simmering when I started thinking about losing. It’s something that I avoid at all costs. If you know anything about me, you know this fact. I hate losing. But the truth is, you can learn more after dealing with some adversity than you would if things were always hunky-dory.

I thought of my own life, and how spectacular and effortlessly hunky-dory it’s been. I’m not going to say that I didn’t have any struggle in my life, but the last 15 or so years have been pretty darn perfect. And while things were going perfectly, I never actually learned to take care of myself. My focus was always my education, my career, my relationships, and my future goals -- but I never took stock of my diet, exercise regimen, sleep schedule, or stress levels. The adversity of cancer -- while (arguably) a nastier foe than any college basketball team -- helped me look at myself critically. It helped me identify my weaknesses and where I’d fallen short in life, and inspired me to change certain aspects of my life. In short, cancer helped me become a better person. And now that I'm a better person, I won't ever let it get the upper hand again.

As I enter this week, the week that includes my life-saving surgery, I will be thinking about my Blue Devils, knowing as well as I know anything that they, and I, will bounce back from any and all adversity. In fact, we'll come back even stronger, as a result. Because you can’t keep champions down.