I’ve decided it’s WAY less stressful to have my husband sitting next to me in the stands at a college basketball game than to have him out there on the side lines.
My entire family went to the OU Women’s basketball game last night. The women played Miami (of Ohio) and won by 3000 points, so that brought the stress level down quite a bit, too.
I told my husband I’d like him to start winning by 3000. I think that would help my nerves. He agreed.
It was a pink-out game and all the breast cancer survivors were honored with roses. Here’s mine: 
Sweet Lou, the announcer, gave me a special survivor shout-out and I wanted to crawl under my seat. There are so many who continue to battle this awful disease that any extra recognition sent my way feels a little (or a lot) undeserved.
Saul could tell I was thinking about making a run for it, because he wrapped me in a tight bear hug and whispered, “I’d rather not be part of this special club.”
Yeah… I get that. I remember the days when I would clap for the cancer survivors, never thinking I would be the one standing there in pink someday.
The thing is though, cancer has brought so much love and light into our family and into my world that I wouldn’t give back that awful diagnosis. I wouldn’t. It’s so funny to me… what the enemy meant to use to break us, God has totally covered in awesomeness.
Seriously, look at this… my people, loving up on me.
Not that I want anymore members of this club. Don’t get me wrong. The hardest part of last night was watching the video board when the players talked about how cancer had affected their own lives. They have moms and aunts and cousins and grandmothers who are all battling. Someday, it will be their teammates… or themselves. It’s personal. That game with the pink socks and pink referee whistles and pink t-shirts became a sacred place where they could say, “I can’t do much, but I can do this.”
I get that. That’s how I feel most of the time now. I can’t do much, but I can do something. And someday, when scientists announce an end to breast cancer, I will dance and cry and probably run around naked with my reconstructed boobs flying free.
Won’t that be a fun day? Even more fun, I bet, than winning by 3000.
*Just for the record, the actual score was 72-44 (but it felt like 3000). YAY Bobcats!
