Tuesday, May 7, 2013

What baseball means to me

"We found a tumor on his brain. We have every reason to believe it is cancer." 

Those two sentences forever changed my life, my family's life and most importantly, my father's life.

A month ago, I started my dream job with MASNsports.com.  After months of searching for the perfect job, I had finally found a job where I would be working in baseball every day.

It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my young-life. Instead it was the first day of the nightmare I've been living ever since.

Cancer. Tumors. Surgery.

How does one even begin to process the above words.  I'll let you in on a little secret ... you can't.

Just four days after he was admitted to the ER, my dad had brain surgery. The neurosurgeon removed a tumor the size of a golf ball. But as we learned, this would be the easy step.

It has been exactly 30 days since my dad was admitted to the hospital and he unfortunately will not be able to come home for another month at the very earliest

The man has had three surgeries in three weeks: Brain surgery and two back surgeries.

He served our country for 20 years as a member of the US Army.  He has continued to soldier on like he's receiving orders from a higher power. It's almost as if God is his commanding officer telling him not to retreat and to continue moving forward. Like the loyal soldier he is, Scott Lofgren is listening to his CO.

Have you ever heard the saying "____ is spreading like wildfire?" Well, now I'm all to familiar with the phrase in a way I never thought it would be applicable.

I bet you're wondering what does this have to do with baseball? And the honest answer is, it really has nothing to do with this situation.

When put into perspective, baseball is very low on my radar these days.  I wouldn't even think about it, if my dad didn't continue to talk about it every day with me.

Even if it serves as a distraction to him for five minutes when we're talking about Bryce Harper's injury or the Nationals' slow start to the season, it's therapeutic.

We've watched games together from his hospital room, and although it's not nearly the same as watching it from our family room, it reminds me of happier, easier, simpler times.

If I know my father, he's a stubborn man. He already told me he's going to do whatever he can to get better.

We're nowhere near being in the clear. We need all the love, support, prayers and strength to continue this fight.

1 comment:

  1. The milkshake girl is lost for words, unable to come up with anything that would come close to expressing my sadness as I watched the struggles unfold for this family. Courtney, your dad and your family are in my thoughts and prayers.