Back On The Court

Tonight, I dealt another blow to "the cancer" and its attempts at limiting my life. I laced up my new Nikes, put on my O'Melveny jersey, and joined my basketball team for a game. This was my first game since September of 2010, a mere five days before I rushed my swollen belly to Good Samaritan's emergency room. It was a big deal for me.

I always knew that coming back to basketball would mean a lot to me, but my expectations of awesomeness couldn't compare to the feeling of actually playing in the game tonight. It wasn't all fireworks -- I played very cautiously, remaining parked on the perimeter and very conscious of the fact that there is a portacath in my chest and an incision down my core that needed to avoid abuse from opposing players. But despite my more hesitant way of playing, it felt incredible to be back out there -- running up and down the court, passing the ball to my teammates, and yes, sinking a couple of shots. I scored only five points tonight, but each of the two shots I made were memorable in their own way. The first came in the first half, after I had narrowly missed a few perimeter shots and was starting to get a little impatient for my first points in 2011. I got the ball near the free throw line, lined up, let the ball go, and watched it bank-swish its way into the hoop. The fact that my first field goal was a bank shot was slightly embarrassing (for those of you who are basketball savvy, you know what I'm talking about), but my second shot made up for that. It came during the second half, and it was a silky smooth three pointer. It felt good leaving my hands, and when I saw the ball swirl around the net, I felt such a release. This was the moment I had been waiting for since the moment I got my diagnosis -- the day that I would be well enough and fit enough to get back on the court and sink a long range jumper. I almost got a little teary after I made that shot but I held myself together. I had a game to play, after all. But, man, it was so beautiful. 

Two months ago, I was shuffling down the halls of the Washington Hospital Center with sutures lining a huge incision wound along my belly. A week and a half ago, I was chemo-weary and vomiting on my bedroom floor. A few hours ago, I was playing full court basketball, looking every bit as healthy and strong as everyone else on the court. I've got to admit it, dear readers: I'm proud of myself. And I'm so happy to be living my hoop dreams again.