Baseball batters spend a significant amount of time improving their mental game to perform their best when it matters. Cancer patients have to, as well.
It is said that there is no more difficult thing to do than step into the batter's box and hit a baseball. The mental game is how you get your mind in the right frame of mind before, during, and after your at-bat. When you are hitting, you are on offense, but your offense comes as a reaction to what the pitcher throws at you. What makes baseball so hard is that a whole variation of pitches could be thrown during each at-bat. You wait for the pitch you want, but adjust and handle what gets tossed. When you succeed in hitting the ball hard, you are on top of the world. When you fail, swing, and miss, you can be down and depressed. Regardless of how you felt about your at-bat, you must wait an hour before your next attempt. This enables the thoughts to marinate and compound. The trick of the game is not allowing these emotions, good or bad, to throw you off your plan or alter your mental state. Think about your at-bat in advance. Batters observe pitchers to understand any patterns, tendencies and tells. Batters practice in the batting cage against different types and speeds of pitch. Batters consider what pitch and placement they'll wait to see before they swing. And the mental game is most important when the batter is at the plate, and the pitcher is ahead with two strikes. At that point, the batter's preference for a pitch reverts to their two-strike strategy, and they have to swing at any pitch near the strike zone. It's a battle. Hitters succeed when their mental game is focused, consistent, clear-headed, and relaxed.
At the end of the at-bat, the hitter could be on base, struck out, or hit a home run. While one batter is frustrated and disappointed, another one is energized. The mental game is how you move behind this initial response and put yourself in the best place to succeed in your next one.
Cancer patients find themselves reluctantly at-bat, facing unknown pitches, and often not confident about how they'll "swing the bat." I was attentive to my oncology team and took notes to create my approach for the chemo curveballs. I wanted to know what early signs of side effects might be so early action could stop them. For example, my sister often felt gassy and indigestion before she was nauseous and vomiting. If we caught the distress at the indigestion level and quickly administered an antiemetic, we could prevent extended vomiting and discomfort.
My mental game focused on viewing my chemo and my treatment as an "obliteration" project where every treatment was one step closer to being cancer-free. Every week, I suited up for an at-bat with the confidence that whatever pitch was thrown, I'd find a way to hit and get closer to my goal of being cancer-free. My secondary goal was to minimize the disruption cancer would have on my life. I wanted to travel, cheer my kids, work, and have fun.
Another objective of my obliteration project was to complete it as fast as possible, which required keeping my body healthy while chemo and immunotherapy took shots at me. This had the dual benefits of keeping my body healthy and my mind strong. Feeling good helped me keep feeling good in a virtuous cycle. With permission from my oncology team, I religiously drank Athletic Greens daily to provide my body with a full day of vegetables and probiotics. I exercised five days out of seven by lifting weights, doing metabolic conditioning three times a week with my bestie, Jessica, and walking the other two or three days. Jessica and I had been working out together for at least 15 years, and while she shifted to coming to my home gym (thanks to COVID) rather than alternating to her home or going to a public gym, we didn't break stride. These routines were a regular part of my training for the infusion day "at bat."
Chemotherapy at-bats aren't particularly fun, and cancer isn't a game. In fact, during a cancer at-bat, a strike-out can be deadly. Treatments take a long time, and there's a lot of waiting. Some of the treatment makes you feel sick or at least uncomfortable. The entire at-bat has an undercurrent of worry - will this work? Will I be in pain? Will I feel normal again?
Infusions are inevitable with my chemotherapy, so my mental game extended to designing my best infusion experience. My infusion routine isn't unlike preparing for a long cross-country flight:
Uniform – Fleece and comfy pants with a top made port access easy. Fluffy slippers kept feet cozy, except when using the ice socks to stave off neuropathy. I had a pair of fluffy slippers only used in the infusion center to treat my feet.
Time management – Arrive early for port draw/labs. The sooner my labs came back, the sooner the infusion started. The sooner the infusion started, the sooner it was over.
Fill the downtime – Did I mention there is a lot of waiting on treatment days? For someone who focused on expediting everything about my treatment, the waiting was a challenge that I needed to address. I had a playlist from my eldest son, prayers with YouTube videos from my Rabbi, adult coloring from my sister-in-law, texts from my high school friend, a chemo-day letter from my baseball-playing second son, a "you have the wrong j****@gmail.com" to make me laugh, a book to read, a charged headset, and often a friend to keep me company during the time between lab draw and pre-treatment, and when I woke up from my Benadryl nap.
Environment – I eliminated the hospital antiseptic smell without bothering my fellow infusion patients by using a personal aromatherapy pendant with lavender or bergamot essential oil.
Coordinate the sequence of pre-treatment – I liked having the Benadryl last to kick off my nap. I also requested that my cold cap be "placed" by the team before Benadryl.
Accept help – I loved my warmed blankets, saltines, and tea. I opted for excessive numbers of warmed blankets. The medical assistants and nurses were attentive to replacing the blankets throughout the infusion, so I never was cold, even with my head, hands, and feet on the ice. The recliners in my infusion center also had seat warmers.
Protect my nap – I figured out a way for the nurses to scan my ID bracelet without waking me up. After my port placement, my husband gave me a stuffed stegosaurus, which wore my bracelet next to me.
Food – I do not like to feel hungry. And an empty stomach is more likely to be queasy. Even though I dislike planning meals, I always had a lunch plan for infusion days. My friends offered to arrange lunch for each infusion, either packed in my cooler or to-go from a nearby restaurant. My infusions were five-and-a-half hours long due to cold-capping pre- and post-infusion periods.
After an infusion, I wanted to relax, so my mental game included a plan for creature comforts. I chose where I wanted to sleep or rest, ensuring other people in the house could respect my space.
Baseball players have to deal with inevitable slumps and learn to control their emotions, be present, and focus on each pitch as it happens. Chemotherapy infusions can be a downer, and while I tried to be present and keep a positive mindset, there were inevitable moments where I had doubts, fears, or negative feelings. I'm not eager to dwell on those negative emotions for long, and I hate being pitied. I chose to let them out primarily to my psycho-oncology therapist. Like a baseball coach, she acknowledged my feelings and helped me reset my mindset to focus on the situation at hand and not what-ifs about the future.
A big part of my mental game was practicing focusing on the present, letting go of the past, and trusting that the future would be alright. No one is well-served dwelling for very long in their mind's petrified and worried space. I created a routine to reset myself from worry to balance and, sometimes, smiling screams. This routine put me in a mental state that enabled me to perform at my best. The mental game in baseball is to create a routine and do something: visualize, breathe, count, sing, or anything else to get yourself in a calm frame to perform. One of the steps in my routine was humor - specifically, humor that came every day of my treatment. I'd find things to laugh at with the check-in clerks, medical assistants, and nurses. The robot that delivered the chemotherapy and the Dignicap routine were fodder for my funny bone. I enlisted friends to help keep the funny coming - one friend has a fairly common Irish name and email address. It is so common that for years, he has received errant emails. He and his brother started responding to these wrong emails with humor - and now he has over 100 "You've Got the Wrong xxxx@gmail.com" exchanges. He sent one to me daily, and they made me laugh out loud many days. That daily dose of laughter, often accompanied by antics of another friend's dog, something my kids shared, something from Neal, always served to lighten the day, break up a moment, and give me the space to focus.
Here are a few of my favorites:
On Wed, Jan 14, 2015 at 6:03 PM, wrote:
Hi,
This came across my hands at a realtors meeting. Thought of your family!
Any interest?
Click the following URL to see the listing:
http://mrislistings.mris.com/DE.asp?ID=60855938573
--------- Forwarded message ---------
From:
Date: Wed, Jan 14, 2015 at 6:57 PM
Subject: Re: [] Emory Road
To:
Cc:
Thanks Megan.
I love this house. I mean LOVE THIS HOUSE. The main house is gorgeous but the barn seals it for me. What an amazing space. I can picture myself in there totally inspired to write and create.
I have 2 concerns that could be dealbreakers though.
1) It's far from my office, which is in Mt View, California
2) I don't know this "Julie" and wonder if we'd be compatible roommates (and more?). Also, my wife might object.
On Sat, Jul 20, 2019 at 5:34 PM wrote:
Hi, lovely lady!!!!
Would you please pray about serving on the Emmaus Board? You would be wonderful, I know. /fingers crossed
Sent from my iPhone
On Jul 22, 2019, at 10:46 PM, wrote:
Girl, after this past weekend, I need a CONFESSIONAL before praying! LOL!!!
In all seriousness, I had a revelation Saturday night through Sunday, something of a spiritual/sexual awakening of sorts. Let's catch up over coffee (or tequila?) this week? I think what I've learned could benefit the rest of the Emmausses.
Lovingly yours,
jf
---------- Forwarded message ---------
From:
Date: Tue, Jul 23, 2019 at 9:55 AM
Subject: Re: Emmaus
To:
Let’s do!!! I’m free tomorrow or Friday. What works for you?
Sent from my iPhone
From:
Sent: Friday, December 30, 2016 12:51:41 PM
To:
Subject: Marketing Huddle
Hi team!
I hope all is well. As you know, I'm back from maternity leave on January 4th. Where did the time go? I'd like to move our regular Marketing Huddle to Thursday or Friday because I have another meeting scheduled for our usual time. Would Thursday or Friday work 1pm Pacific Time instead? It would be great to do a Google Hangout. If those times work, please provide windows of avail.
Happy New Year,
Bernadette
On Jan 4, 2017, at 12:32 PM, wrote:
Welcome back! Friday works for me too.
Some ideas we should discuss...
Matt and I've been kicking around doing something around the inauguration? "Drain the swamp and fill it with delicious, nutritious organic juices and teas!" That's too long, but something like that. Or #haveanorganicteaparty? MAKE HYDRATION GREAT AGAIN! This is a great opportunity to sell some juice.
Cathy, are we still moving forward on the new energy drink? Is it still going to be called "XTREME TEAM TEA"? I'm still not sure that is on brand but if the research says the #millennials will drink that crap, fine.
Also, I looked into licensing the rights to Juicy from the Notorious BIG's estate. It's not nearly as expensive as we thought (I told you so Ellianna! You owe me $1). Love this song.
"Puttin 5 carrots in my baby girls' ear" could easily be switched up to "putting vitamins in every juice here". Boom.
jf
On Wed, Jan 4, 2017 at 9:03 AM, wrote:
Let's schedule it for this Friday at 1pm PT 4pm ET.
See your faces soon!
On Wed, Jan 4, 2017 at 9:57 AM, wrote:
This. Is. Amazing.
Justin, very slick way of letting us know we had the wrong email in there. You had us all confused. Have a happy new year! Lol
Cathy
Ha. Well, I'm happy to help! I got my gmail address pretty early and thus get emails for every other (name) on earth. I enjoy responding. And as a fellow marketer, I took great pride in this one. Happy new year!
——
Most people have a funny friend. If not, there are daily messages you can sign up for to get a daily joke, limerick, or puzzle. Whatever pauses your racing mind and gives you a moment of relief, it's good. My game day routine made chemo day much more pleasant. My training regimen plus a dose of genetic good luck served to keep me healthy and kept my infusions on track for rapid obliteration of my tumor.
Continue the story…
