Originally Posted by
Dawgpix
I'd love for us to take a construction break and read something from OKD. His blog today in Facebook:
(O.K. (Buddy) Davis has been around highly competitive athletes and coaches his entire life. Now, in year No. 3 of a stroke, such relationships have helped him cope with a major change in his lifestyle. Equally vital has been a tremendous support system of so many friends and others. He paid tribute to those parties in his O.K.'s Corral column).
When a stroke
honestly has a
good side to it
Believe it or not, there's a good thing about having a stroke.
At least it has been for me, crazy as it might sound.
First of all, I don't wish a stroke on anyone.
It's that unexpected and unwanted territory that nobody wants to discover.
But for me personally, I have faced it as a challenge to conquer and remain positive.
The latter is of utmost importance.
When one undergoes a drastic.change in their health and lifestyle, there are two options: travel the ''woe is me'' route or turn off at the ''optimistic and upbeat'' exit.
For me, it's being in the ''optimistic, upbeat'' lane.
And my axiom is ''down, but not out.''
Maybe it's having been around highly competitive athletes/coaches all my life that has transfused such a trait into my DNA.
A classic example is former Shreveport Woodlawn High/Arkansas/NFL legendary quarterback Joe Ferguson, who met cancer face-to-face and has worked his way back to every day life. He never gave up.
Granted, I have little use -- precious little -- on the left side, but I can still function on the right side. Not totally, but enough to where I can still write.
And that's a special delivery gift from the good Lord, because I would be an ornery guy to deal with minus my love of writing.
So I can only write with my right side.
Hey, I feel blessed after seeing hospital patients and Princeton Place residents with no arms or legs.
They and others with disabilities have it far worse than I do.
Or I think about my No. 1 hero, my father (Howard C. Davis), who was critically wounded and
left for dead before being saved in the jungles of the South Pacific during World War II.
Again, if I couldn't write -- type with my iPhone keyboard with that right hand -- I would likely become unhinged.
It's something I have done since I was 14 years old, when I knew this was what I wanted to do as long as I could. More than 50 years later, I still love it. It's a passion whose flame keeps burning brightly. It's a love affair that lives on.
Many of my good friends wanted to be lawyers, doctors or teachers.
Since I wasn't going to be like my all-time favorite baseball player, Mickey Mantle, my ambition was to write about sports.
Mission accomplished.
And still being accomplished, even with only that trusty right hand.
But here's the No. 1 reason -- it even trumps the love of writing -- why I've stayed cheerful: having such a fantastic support system, from longtime friends to new ones being formed constantly.
No way I would be without them.
We have laughed, reminisced and -- yes -- cried together.
Of course, it's been aided by regular deliveries of Starbucks' Pike, but that's probably another column/blog item for another day.
Besides, again, the more important point is that this tremendous circle of supporters is what has been so valuable and appreciated in the recovery process.
Now, see why this stroke has a good side -- that right one included -- to it?
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