Wisdom from the DLPosted: October 24, 2011 Filed under: breast cancer, Surgery, tennis | Tags: Dalai Lama, disabled list, Josh Beckett, Kevin Everett, Kim Clijsters, postaday2011, psychological effects of breast cancer, reconstruction, recovery, revision surgery, Sheryl Crow 8 Comments
I’ve been on the DL — disabled list — an awful lot since cancer came to town, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it, but I think I’ve gotten better at it. I’ll never be good at being a spectator in my own life, and I’ll never be one who enjoys the journey in my haste to get to the destination,but I have learned the value of time & place and that sometimes you have to be instead of do. I’ve learned to chant “It’s temporary” a thousand and one times to remind myself that while this is my life, it won’t always be like this.
Being on the DL has taught me a lot. Being forced to watch my tennis team while I waited for my body to heal enough to be able to play was one of the single best things I could have done for my game. If someone had suggested it to an able-bodied, healthy me, however, I would have laughed at the idea of sitting instead of playing. But watching helped me appreciate the game on a whole new level. I could focus on the strategies being employed, instead of being on high alert for the ball coming my way. I could study the nuances of each player’s serve, noticing how very different and personal a serve is. I noticed for the first time that everyone — even the best players on the court — makes bad shots. That was enlightening for an always-hard-on-herself player like me.
With my next revision surgery scheduled for the day after tomorrow, I prepare to go on the DL yet again. I played my last match of the season last week, and we played our usual Sunday morning 4 sets yesterday. I enjoyed both immensely, knowing that I won’t get to play again for several weeks. But this time, instead of being bummed about having to sit out again, I realized something. Something important. Like my cancer “journey,” being on the DL is temporary, and instead of being anxious and impatient to get back, I find myself contemplative and introspective about my game. It’s not about playing as much as humanly possible, it’s about playing the very best tennis possible for me.
This time while I’m recovering, I’ll be thinking about getting back to basics: swinging through the ball; having the discipline to not hit a bad toss; moving in on a high ball; shifting to cover the middle. I won’t be thinking about whether everyone on my team is improving while I’m standing still. I won’t be thinking about all I’m missing. I’ll be thinking about all I have. I’ll channel Sheryl Crow, who may not play tennis but has the wisdom to remind us: “It’s not having what you want, it’s wanting what you’ve got.”
I’ll never say that I want what I’ve got in terms of having been diagnosed with cancer at age 41, in the prime of my life AND my tennis game. But I can say that I’ll smoke ’em if I got ’em. I’ll make the best of my situation, regardless of how shitty it is and no matter how many times I go back on the DL. In addition to channeling Sheryl Crow, I’ll channel the wise & wonderful Dalai Lama and repeat a thousand and one times his mantra of “When we meet real tragedy in life, we can react in two ways–either by losing hope and falling into self-destructive habits, or by using the challenge to find our inner strength.”
I’ll be finding my inner strength.
You go, girl! Modelo will be there–icy and cold–when we return! Until then, I’ll just have to bring it to you 🙂
It’s amazing the amount of courage you have. Hugs.
love this, it is odd when you get out the box and walk around it and see its sides in a new way, I just hate that it was cancer that made us do that…good luck, clean hands and every onward girl…
Keep up your mantra – INNER STRENGTH it is.
I’ll try to keep this one in my heart and mind, too, as I also prepare for upcoming major revision . . . and the minor revisions that will follow . . .
Wishing you the best of care and recovery and speedy removal from the DL.
[…] I hate being incapacitated. […]
[…] little later, in Wisdom from the DL, I got real about my hatred of all things invalid-related: “I’ll never be good at being a […]
[…] “Wisdom from the DL” I labored under the mistaken impression that I was getting better at being a […]