Drink of Choice

Back when this brain cancer journey started, literally a day or two after the biopsy, I was getting checked out of the hospital when the medical assistant/nurse was giving me the laundry list of medical restrictions. There was this medication that I couldn't take because it wouldn't interact with the antiseizure one I'd be on for a while, this other one that I couldn't take till I got off the steroids in a few days. I could no longer play soccer or scuba dive because impact to the brain could cause more issues etc etc. Then there was the food and diet which for the most part was temporary as the digestive system might me more reactive from the anesthesia. As the list went on, me, a guy who had never called in sick in his life and defined himself as an athlete, who is a leader or a control freak depending on how you see it, felt more and more trapped by a tumor that he still didn't even know what it was. Then they said, you can't have caffeine, you can't have alcohol and in the frustration and the humor coping mechanism, "I said what about rum and coke, don't they cancel each other out?!" The poor nurse looked up and stunned, confused and not getting that I was joking said, no no they don't cancel each other out. I told her I was just joking.

When the biopsy results came in the doctor actually clarified that it was okay on occasion but that if I was like a bottle of wine or a couple of beers guy or a regular coffee drinker, I was going to have to give that up. Those weren't true but for the better part of a decade now, on special occasions I'd order a rum and coke just to give a, how do you say it politely, fuck you to the medical restriction to my brain cancer, to show that somehow I was still strong and independent and brain cancer wasn't going to tell this guy what to do!

It became such a running theme (no pun intended) that at a cancer event with First Descents when we all had to go by self given nicknames (the only self imposed moniker of my life) I went by Rum and coke, something a few people still call me, others R&C for short. It became such a part of my identity that it was my signature drink for my wedding less than two years ago.

It was not until less than a week ago that I realized I'd gotten it wrong. When I got my MRI results last Tuesday I went home and drank a Mexican coke with Kiana (everything is better with a little Mexican in it). I was intending to have another later in the night with rum mixed in but somewhere it hit me that I'd gotten it all wrong. While the story of me putting off brain surgery to run a marathon has been told a lot due to the marathon stroller win two years later, I was determined to not let cancer control me. I also finished my last soccer league then (we won it) and what I thought would be my last ultimate tournament (we won it). Cancer would wait for me and since then I have not stopped for death--though if Dickinson is write there will come a day where it will kindly stop for me.

But during this quarantine, the drinking at my house has been higher than usual. You're welcome to judge me but there's been plenty of times where I've thought that at my home, we could have called Covid-19 the wine flu, I mean that's the bare naked truth. There's also been liquor but it has all been whiskey, bourbon and tequila (sometimes with company, sometimes dancing alone). The bottle of rum has gone untouched, waiting till MRI results I suppose. It was while getting it done on MRI day that I realized this was a place where I'd let cancer control me. It was a small, insignificant thing but it had done it for almost a decade that my drink of choice had been one I'd never liked. I didn't dislike it but it was just a reaction, a joke that became life. So I put the rum back and grabbed some barefoot bubbly, realizing for a guy who hates his feet that there are times you pour some champagne and you take your socks off and celebrate that in your way, not a reactionary way. My cancer wasn't cured, my tumor was probably stable (see previous post) but my celebration was my own. There was almost nothing negative about that day and leaving a reactionary joking drink of choice was a highlight.

I'm not some wise owl; I'm a running lion. These are polarizing times about some gigantic things, some of which should be fairly obvious like hey let's not be racist. I've been pulled over 6 times in my life for running while Mexican (twice in high school, twice in college and twice in Austin-one of those while working for law enforcement and the other while President of the Austin Runners Club). Three of those times I was put in the back of a police car and got no explanation until I was there. I also spent 8.5 years working with 'juvenile delinquents' and being on the other side of law enforcement, most of them working with kids with mental health issues and know that both the breakers of the law and the enforcers of the law have complicated issues to deal with and the solution is not as simple as let's get rid of all the police. I've been asked recently to be part of two non profit boards to better represent minorities (a Mexican guy with Arabic name could tell you some stories) and I'm considering it, trying to figure out how to be part of the solution but again I'm not sure I'm smart enough for that.

With cancer, I made a decision that I didn't even realize was a small win for cancer changing me instead of me fighting back for almost a decade. I also have let it affect relationships from the many years of the George Clooney approach where I was protecting them, perhaps not entirely acknowledging my own scars from being left in the middle of brain cancer. I'll try to do my best to not let negative things in my path or in society carve out my reactions just to say fuck you to them. The rum and coke was relatively harmless other than reliving one small moment after a biopsy instead of living past it. The George Clooney thing harmed some emotional capacity for me and people who me and them could have been better for.

So to those who have read this thus far, remind me to choose life period each chance I get, to share it. To focus on the solution, yes, of course protest the problems in our lives, the harmers, keep track of it, hope to God that we do a whole lot better than just keeping them stable. And when we do and get to share life's goodness and not just the necessary evil of bemoaning and fighting it's problems, let's have a celebratory drink during the little victories. And just to be a good sport and enjoy the connections, let's say cheers while we make eye contact and  I'll likely have whatever you're having even if it's rum and coke.