Hurdles

Everyone has hurdles. My dad battled alcoholism for years. I grew up in a small town where many of the fathers spent hours toiling as loggers or farmers. I have a relative that struggles with depression. My mother and her sister haven't spoken in years. (You have to fix that, mom. Maybe by the time this book comes out …) I have cancer.
 
I’ve long been a believer that it’s not about the hurdle you face but how you overcome it. And that overcoming hurdles can teach you more than a flat stretch of road. You learn to fight. To go into battle to go after what you want.
 
The first battle I remember facing was during tryouts for the Port Leyden Baseball Farm Team. Small towns have tryouts. Not everyone gets to play. It's simple logistics as there are but so many uniforms. Players had to survive the cut in order to get one of the coveted positions.
 
I walked across town, by myself, for the first day of tryouts. I had a new glove and I was ready to play. Most of the boys in town were there, but the coach hadn't arrived. A few of the older guys were smoking. I thought that was weird and I didn't have any desire to smoke. Of course, they were all offering cigarettes to the younger kids. I refused and one of the guys promptly threw a glove into my face. It hurt like hell and I left, embarrassed. I shrugged my shoulders as I walked away. I knew I really wanted to play baseball. But the older guys clearly didn't want me there.
 
I didn’t even make it back home before I turned around. The big kids weren’t going to get the best of me. I marched back to the ball field and practiced anyway. I practiced every evening until the tryouts. I loved baseball and I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
I didn't make the team that year.
 
Although I would make the cut in subsequent years, I don't remember a single thing about those tryouts. Why? Because there wasn't significant adversity. Those later tryouts were unremarkable. I didn't have a battle to fight.
 
“A champion is someone who gets up when he can’t.” – Jack Dempsey
 
Cancer was the biggest hurdle I’d ever faced. As soon as my doctor put the CT scans on the screen, even I, with no medical expertise, recognized there was something very wrong with my scan. I didn’t understand the danger level completely, but “cancer” sent me into DEFCON 1. I was presented with a battlefield in which I was a complete novice. How could I become a remarkable cancer patient?
How could I assist my doctors and help them to save me?
 
From Napkin Notes, Chapter 2 Copyright 2014 by Garth Callaghan
 
Napkin Notes Available on Amazon: http://nndad.co/1Q86gmB
 
Notas de amor 22.11.2016: http://nndad.co/2fSKpSP

Noel - November 5, 2011

This took place on November 5, 2011.

I lost sight of her again. I was running but she was faster. I had to stay on the path, but she was darting through the trees and the underbrush. I could not keep up. The path was too twisted and uneven. I was running up, down, left and right on the dirt. The afternoon sun was beating down on me through the golden and red leaves. My wife and neighbors were well behind me, but we were all yelling her name. I was doing my best to run ahead but I was already short of breath. I was scared. She hadn't been on her own like this, with so much freedom. I had to keep her within eyesight. 

We were camping, an activity I didn't particularly enjoy. On a hike with our friends, our dog Noel had dashed off in pursuit of something and was nowhere to be seen. We had rescued her less than a year before. Noel had been in a local pet shelter for 59 days. This nearby county shelter was not a "no kill" shelter and after 60 days, the animals were euthanized. She was saved from that fate by F.L.A.G. (For the Love of Animals in Goochland). Noel barely looked like a dog when we met her. She was just fur and bones. The fur that she did have was patchy and sparse. 

Noel had clearly been on her own for some time. She was skittish around most people and appeared to be deathly afraid of me. Lissa and Emma were certain. Noel was the dog that we had to save. 

I didn't want a new dog in our home. Lucy was my dog. I had chosen her and loved my German Shepherd - Rottweiler mix for thirteen years.  Lucy had died just four months before Lissa and Emma ambushed me with rescue dog pictures. I was still grieving and didn't want to have room in my heart for another pet.  

I continued running even though my lungs felt like they might explode. Bailey, the neighbors' Golden Retriever, was keeping up with Noel and I could just see a yellow ball of fur up ahead. All I could hope was that Noel wasn't that far ahead. 

Finally I saw the dogs slow, some smell halting their joy run. I was able to catch up and put the leash back on Noel. I let out a huge sigh of relief, thankful that the rest of our weekend wouldn't be spent wandering the wilderness, hoping to somehow bring Noel home. 

Our neighbors, Mike and Sheryl Bourdeau, had invited us to spend the weekend with them camping. At least it was camping in a cabin and not in tents. I could handle staying in a cabin much easier than sleeping on the ground. We were celebrating Cheryl's birthday and that night Mike had a fantastic dinner of steaks planned. We toasted the birthday girl with red wine and ate gourmet cupcakes. We played games and thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company. The evening came to a close too quickly. As I was preparing for bed, I needed to use the bathroom.

As I stood peeing, I watched in shock. My urine was sangria red. 

I couldn't begin to think what was causing this. There was no pain. There was no other indication that something was wrong with me. 

I commenced freaking out. 

I found Lissa and told her what had happened.  I grabbed my phone and tried to look up potential causes. There was hardly any signal. I stepped out on to the cabin porch, held my phone above my head and tilted it at just the right angle to get some data signal. Blood in your urine was called gross hematuria. I read through potential causes.  At the end of a very scary list were two causes Lissa and I hoped could be the answer: vigorous exercise and an excessive amount of beets. Not only had I been running earlier, trying to catch Noel, an activity that isn't a normal part of my routine, but Cheryl's birthday treats involved a Red Velvet Cupcake from a gourmet shop. Though I never would have guessed, Lissa suggested that the shop might have used concentrated beet juice to color the cupcake. We calmed ourselves down, enough to sleep, hoping that it was a freak occurrence and not something to truly worry about. 

The camping excursion ended without further incident and I was almost unconcerned about what had happened. We headed home and resumed our normal lives, until I saw blood in my urine again the next day. Although I am not one to worry about little things, even I realized I should head in to the doctor to have this checked out.  I made an appointment with my general practitioner, Dr. Morgan. 

To be continued...

From Napkin Notes, Copyright 2014 by Garth Callaghan

Join Us - 21 Days of Thankfulness

I have a lot to be thankful for, and so do you. Sure, there are dark clouds in my life. I always say everyone has a little crap in their life. I am no exception. 

But I have so much to be thankful for. Lissa, my wife. Emma, my daughter. Even Noel, our dog, who I know played an instrumental part in my diagnosis. Our family and friends. Our community. Napkin Notes. I could go on and on. 

This year we’re asking you to do something a little different. We’re asking you to think ahead, to plan. Get ready for giving thanks a few weeks earlier than normal. Be purposeful in your thoughts and actions. 

Join us this Thanksgiving as we give thanks for the people in our lives. 

Starting November 4th we will write a note a day until Thanksgiving. 

Follow our guide, choose a napkin or a note card and remember it is the thought that counts.
Write one note a day for 21 days. Easy, right? 

Why We Give Thanks

Because the people in our lives matter.

It is our responsibility to tell them that they do.

I chose a napkin. A simple way to connect with my daughter, Emma, at lunch every day - sharing wisdom, inspiration and encouragement. 

What I did not know is I would be diagnosed with cancer 4 times and how valuable these moments we two would share.

Use the hashtag #21DaysOfThankfulness

Download the easy peasy guide here: http://media.wix.com/ugd/cff5ea_c7a5ebb3c9fa48c2acd44db9e37ab95e.pdf 

Join the movement and sign up for our newsletter: http://eepurl.com/O1jwf 

Step Up

Emma's Center (She goes to a high school with a special group of classes which focus on Humanities. About 1/2 of her classes are with the same group of students. It's called a "center") had a potluck last week so the parents and teachers could get together. Believe it or not, I am not entirely comfortable with forced social fun. And I wasn't feeling particularly well that night. It wasn't a good combination. 

I was approached by a parent of a freshman. She recognized me and asked, "Are you the Napkin Notes Dad?" I am never very good at these types of things, and I was a bit taken aback at being 'recognized', even in my own community. She commented that she could never do that. I had to assume she was referring to writing a note each day. I didn't get a chance to follow up with her and I regret it. I didn't have a good answer but thought about that interaction all weekend. 

I think this is a fear we all share. None of us, parents, managers and leaders, writers, and especially student, like to look at a blank piece of paper. 

If we were to commit to writing a note each day, what would happen when we failed? What would happen if we missed a day? How would it feel to let your child/employee/publisher down? 

The answer is simple. But I got the answer from something that happened about 20 years ago. 

Circuit City was soliciting a new ad/branding campaign. I was privileged to see a concept video from Chiat Day. The video took us through a brief history of how electronics have impacted our lives, and ended in the future, showing a clear TV hanging in the middle of the room, visible from both sides. I won't go into the full video details, but suffice it to say it was magnificent. One of my coworkers was tearing up in the conference room as the lights came up. 

The CC Executives decided they couldn't go in this direction. They explained, "Our stores are small, dirty, and dark. If we run with the concept commercial, we would disappoint the customers and not meet expectations." The Chiat Day team responded simply. "If you run this campaign, they'll forgive you." 

I've written a note each day for years. We've set the expectation. I have (shock!) missed a day now and then. I've driven to school in order to drop off a note. Lissa has picked up the responsibility when I couldn't get out of bed in time. That's what our family does. 

If I were to really drop the ball one day, yes, Emma would be disappointed. I would certainly expect a comment, possibly with a side of snark. She expects there to be a note, and she would definitely ask what was up with me missing a day.  

However, one day out of two thousand school days she's already received a note, she'd likely forgive me. 

Don't let the fear of striking out stop you from stepping up to the plate. 

Pack. Write. Connect.

36. Drive my truck around and allow Emma to sit in the truck bed

36. Drive my truck around and allow Emma to sit in the truck bed

Why did I put this on my Bucket List? It seems so trivial, small really. I remember riding around in the back of my dad's truck. It was a different time, a time without seat belts, safety tops on soda cans or even bike helmets. 

Emma has always wanted to ride in the back of the truck, and I knew that Lissa would never let her. Well, a few weeks ago in Nags Head, it happened! We had to take a short, slow drive to the Beach Access point, and everyone agreed this would be the time! 

Here's my Bucket List in full. I am updating it now by crossing off items I've completed! 

http://www.napkinnotesdad.com/blog/2014/2/16/my-bucket-list

Pack. Write. Connect. 

Our First Facebook Live Video

An Office Depot Surprise

Emma and I received the most thoughtful box from Office Depot today. You know I love their Foray pens and use them exclusively for Napkin Note writing. 

They sent us a "care package" with both the pens I love and some new ones to try out! Emma's box included pens, a pencil holder, a pencil pouch, gold re-enforced note paper, a composition book, folders, and a laptop case! 

Amazing! 

Even better, there were handwritten letters: 

"Thank you for being such an inspiration for parents & children. Your journey tells an amazing story that so many of us can learn from." 

Double Amazing! 

Emma commented to me, "I don't think they know how much I like office supplies!" Yes, Emma, I think they just might! :-)  

Thank you, Office Depot Team, Rachel, Andrew, and Scott! I'll be trying out the pens first thing tomorrow morning! 

Pack. Write. Connect.