Every day is a blessing, but sometimes it rains

Blog post from August 29th:

Life is not always sunshine and rainbows, we all know that.

I am a firm believer that each day we wake up is a blessing. I vowed, several years ago, to never take another day for granted. There were two times in the last ten years where my DR informed me that I was mere hours from losing my life.

This last hospital stay I swore to myself I would start living life to its fullest for as long as I can.

Each day I tell myself to make the best of it. Don't let little things get me down and to try and find a way to bring a smile to someone else's face.

All of that is well and good, but there are days that it rains.

Yes, every day is a blessing. Yes, I strive to enjoy every moment of life. Some days are just harder than others.

Whether it be something as small as getting annoyed with some bad driving or as big as pains that double me over or bring tears to my eyes, those days are hard.

I try and force the smile. I don't want anyone knowing I'm suffering. I never want anyone's pity or sympathy, so I usually just keep my issues to myself.

Some days are just harder than others.

Recently I've started bowling again, and bowling a lot. My ostomy bag has allowed me to begin living life again and I thank the Lord, each day, for this opportunity. This bag has allowed me to bowl, travel, go out with friends, go to the beach. I can now do things that most people have taken for granted their whole lives, that have always been a struggle to me.

Yes, this bag has given me a lot.

There are days I still hate it. With a passion.

Last weekend I was bowling an event in which I slipped a little while shooting a spare and felt the ring around my stoma shift, cutting the bottom of my skin. I came home to a bag of blood.

This past weekend I decided to suck it up and bowl another event. This one had trouble written all over it.

15 games straight. One day event. That is too much for a 'normal' or 'healthy' person, but I am not one to let my disease beat me, so I signed up.

For 11 games, things were fine. I was in contention and making a move up the standings sheet. Game 12, I slipped a little shooting a spare ... and deja vu all over again. I spent the next 3 games trying to simply survive and find a way to make good shots, all the while feeling like someone was cutting me with a razor blade every shot.

Pride would not let me throw in the towel. I was determined to finish. After game 15 concluded, I missed 'cashing' by 1 spot, but I finished. To me, that was a small victory in itself.

Here I am now, over 24 hours later, and I still feel the pain left over from yesterday's bowling. I get frustrated that my body can't or won't do what my mind knows it needs to. It's frustrating, as an athlete, to KNOW in your mind what you need to do but your body won't cooperate.

I was blessed to wake up today, but it is raining.