I had accomplished the task thousands of times since I first learned on a hay bale on my uncle’s farm. However, this time it was different. This time, when finished, I felt a rush of adrenalin flowing through my veins. 

Tying my shoes meant something elevated to another scale just a couple of weeks ago. They were coaching shoes – dirty, worn but thirsty for use. Once I finished the second shoe, I realized that I had overcome a monumental hurdle that I was not sure I would ever climb. After finishing the tying of my black Nike coaching shoes, I headed to my first hitting lesson in over two years. Braden and Drew were the first players to receive lessons since May 15, 2018. 

That was the day fellow coach Joe Welton dragged me off of the field at Saline High School as I was about to fall to the ground on a steamy, humid day. I saw white. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t hit outfield fungos without stopping to catch some wind. Joe took me on the Gator to meet Michelle, who rushed me to the emergency room at St. Joseph Mercy Chelsea. My life would take a tumultuous turn and the battle to live was on. For over 27 months, I would wake up and thank God that I was still able to breathe. 

As far as I was concerned, every new day was a good day. 

Since that May 15, 2018, day, I have gained a unique appreciation for the gift of health. Chemotherapy, radiation, injections, infusions, coronavirus, hospital rooms and experimental procedures continuously stared at me. I viewed life’s steps as a challenge, as a process and as a grind. Dying was not an option. I still had more to give. As a dedicated husband, educator, father, grandfather and friend, I had more to offer. I prayed that God would see it that way, too. 

Today, August 21, 2020, marks the one-year anniversary of my last bone marrow transplant. It was 365 days ago today that I received my third major treatment to rid my system of acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL). On that sunny summer day on the Karmanos Cancer Center’s 10th floor, the transfusion slowly dripped in me as I awaited my fate. Two other times, once at Karmanos and once at Seattle’s Cancer Care Alliance, I swung and missed on attempts to eradicate the leukemia. But a year ago, the bone marrow transplant from a young German guy has proven to be successful. Tenuous at times, but overall, the transplant has refreshed my life. The two-strike approach to live has forced me to choke up and shorten up in a more conservative manner.

Every day matters. Every day is a blessing. Every day is a good day.

Because I would miss too many names, I cannot begin to thank everyone who has impacted this grind. From the Jefferson “He’s my Bear” crusade to the Saline “Team Tag” mantra, the outpouring of support for this arduous ascension has been appreciated and humbling. Family members, friends, fellow basketball officiating colleagues, former students and players, fellow coaches and educators, nurses, doctors and even many of whom I have never met. All of these people have fueled an inner drive to overcome this dreaded disease. Thank you for encouraging me to crawl back from such a deficit.

Michelle has been an absolute stabilizing rock throughout this journey. Without one complaint, she has been by my side – driving me to appointments, sleeping in the hospital, making meals even when I could not swallow and offering a hand to squeeze when I needed a little extra to soften the pain. I’m a lucky guy. 

Every day matters. Every day is a blessing. Every day is a good day.

Thinking back to tying those coaching shoes a couple of weeks ago, I certainly understand the significance of such an insignificant act. Even when living seemed fleeting, I never lost hope.    

There are no little things in life. 

I’m excited to bring you a short and sweet summary of our summer. I also have a few facts to present, so I’m going to forge ahead. 

Fact #1

Two intrathecal chemotherapy procedures (lumbar puncture) have gone exceptionally well this time around. It could be because Dave’s body does not have to battle the vicious cancer cells normally wreaking havoc throughout his body. Dave has had two preventative treatments with one more slated for August 27. He tipped the scale at 200 pounds and is holding. He looks trim but healthy and we are enjoying this beautiful summer.

Fact #2

We have been vigilant and staying safe at home. There’s a sense of guilt when we do anything out of the ordinary, like run to the store for an immediate need. Or even when watching the kids’ games from a distance, we feel a sense of trepidation. Whether one believes this pandemic is political or not, it is a real threat. Never forget the most precious gift of all is a life. Any life. Dave wakes up everyday, looks upward and says, “it’s a great day. Thank You for letting me live it.”

Fact #3

Did you know that coronavirus particles have a layer of fat that surrounds them, making it difficult to destroy? Go figure. Fat has always been the enemy and still is. But, that’s why washing our hands with soup and water is critical. Soap can break it down and help slow this devastating story that has changed our lives for the last six months. 

Fact #4

Two years ago, when you began following our journey with leukemia, you asked how you could help. I asked for prayers. Lots of them. Pray. He listens. And you did. Look at the immense power of your prayers. And, many of you have remarked that you continue to pray for us daily. Just today I was reminded of this while I was talking with Sean, another player’s parent, at Emilee’s softball game. I believe you continue to keep Dave in your prayers as proof and in thanks to the miracle you have all witnessed. Because, Dave would not be here without your prayers, Dave’s perseverance and Dave’s trust in God’s plan.

Fact #5

I have a guest blogger next week who you don’t want to miss. We celebrate one year of Dave being in remission. August 21. Join us here on the blog next Friday to celebrate. Dave’s new “birthday” commemorates a milestone that even those in the medical profession have watched in awe. So next week, Dave will be walking up to the plate to thank you personally.

Pass next week’s blog on to everyone with whom you have shared our story. They will want to know their prayers have been heard and answered.