I’ve been watching old episodes of  Friday Night Lights lately.  (Terry and I bought the DVDs when we were in Duluth a few months ago.)  I don’t know what draws me to the show, but I am most certainly drawn.  At any rate, in the second episode, there was a sign on a building in the background: “There is No Substitute for Guts”.  That struck a chord with me.  I believe it’s time for me to dig deep and remember what I’m made of.

We hear so much about people bravely fighting cancer.  I don’t think there’s a whole lot of bravery involved in that fight.  It’s not as if you have much choice.  You either do the treatment or you die.  The treatment is hell, but there is really no alternative.  (Things get more dicey when there is little chance of remission.  At that point, the bravery comes in making the decision between treatment and palliation and in sticking with or ultimately revising that decision.)

At least in my case, the bravery comes in the aftermath of the whole thing.  Now is the time to be brave.  Now is the time to dig deep and do the work to get as much of my life back as possible.  Of course, everything is complicated by my other medical issues, but I can’t use them as excuses.  It’s all very complex, and I have to try to figure out how much to push without causing my physical condition to worsen.  Nonetheless, I have to try.

In another Friday Night Lights scene, the football players ran windsprints up and down a hill in the pouring rain as their coach shouted repeatedly, “Champions don’t complain; champions don’t quit!”  Perhaps for all the cancer survivors out there, we should change that to, “Survivors don’t complain; survivors don’t quit!”  I’m going to try to make that my mantra as I go to the gym, clean out the closets, do the crossword puzzles to help with cognitive function, etc., etc.  Lupus and cancer both take a lot from you, but I’m not going to let them take any more than absolutely necessary.

Survivors don’t complain.  Survivors don’t quit.  And there is no substitute for guts.