If you’ve seen Get Him to The Greek then you understand the reference I’m making in the title here. If not then well…. I guess you have to see the movie – it’s hilarious.
A couple hours ago I had just thrown on some sweats, packed my hockey bag and was about to hit the road and meet my dad down at the rink, (we’ve got a men’s league hockey game tonight, or I guess, I was supposed to be playing in a men’s league game), when I felt the familiar “pop.” I knew exactly what it meant.
The geyser that can be my right lung had just burst, and flowing out of my mouth came the bright red blood that I’ve come to see too much of in the past 10 years.
I’ll be fine, but that means no hockey for me tonight.
Trust me, the last thing I need right now is to suffocate myself with my own blood on a cross-ice dump and change. While that would be a hell of a way to go out, it’s not exactly what I need nor want at the moment. The blood will stop on it’s own as long as I let it.
Also… now that I’m thinking about all of this… what a SCENE I would have created at the rink had this happened about 25 minutes later.
Today would have made the 5th game in four days for me. I guess I’ll have to settle with 4 games on the weekend, but who’s counting? (See picture attached picture for reference.)
They call this a hemoptysis when this happens. “They,” of course, being the doctors, and beyond the terrible taste of blood it’s pretty frustrating when it happens. (It’s also scary as f*ck the first time it happens, but I’ve been down this road before, so we cool… we cool…)
So instead of just sitting here eating mac & cheese while waiting for the bleed to stop, I figured I would be a little proactive and talk a bit about my frustrations and what I do to settle them.
Frustration in the world of CF is, well, a common occurrence. Just when things seem to be going well (see four hockey games over the weekend), they can turn at the flip of a switch. There doesn’t have to be a rhyme or reason why CF acts up, it just does.
I guess, ironically, there is a rhyme or reason here, and that reason is hockey. I probably overextended myself this weekend, which, EVEN MORE IRONICALLY, was a fundraiser for CF. (See BEF Guinness Cup Hockey Tournament.)
Can’t make this shit up, people.
A long time ago I gave up trying to justify every single little thing that happens to me. My trick is really pretty simple. Take a punch and keep moving. I think sometimes we get so wrapped up in the WHY, often when we have absolutely no control, and lose focus on what happens next. Reactions to crisis, frustration or adversity are just as important as the problem at hand. Often times an emotional response is the wrong one. I try to take emotion out of critical, heat of the moment decisions. It’s not easy.
The emotional decision tonight would have been to say, “ah f*ck the bleed… it’ll stop, always does… let’s play” – but that neglects the rest of my week. I’m going to see Senses Fail in concert Thursday, play hockey up at West Point on Friday then see Simple Plan in concert on Saturday (don’t judge the concert choice).
A bleed is never guaranteed to stop, so rational thinking tells me to take my foot off the gas pedal.
I realize that tonight these are pretty menial things, but the thought process needs to be there at all levels of severity regardless of whether or not the conflict has anything to do with my health.
If you take a punch in the gut get back up and step forward, it sends a message. Sometimes we have to send that message to ourselves. I did tonight.