A STORY OF LIFE
BY JEFF NUNN | PHOTOS BY DAVID HARRISON
EVERY DAY I WAKE UP IS A GOOD DAY. THESE ARE THE WORDS I LIVE BY. THEY HELP GIVE ME PERSPECTIVE AND ARE A CONSTANT REMINDER OF THE DAY THAT I WANTED TO CLOSE MY EYES FOREVER JUST TO MAKE THE PAIN STOP.
IN LATE APRIL 1998, I was a healthy 25-year-old with a great job who played in a softball league, basketball league and a golf league. I had just signed a contract to build my first house and felt like I was on top of the world, even though I had just started working odd hours as I transitioned into a new work schedule.
When my eyes became watery and red, as if I had the beginning of pink eye, and I started having headaches and sleepless nights, I chalked it up as an adaption to the change in my schedule and assumed it would all go away as soon as I became acclimated to a new routine.
One evening after a late work night, I rushed out to a party to meet up with friends. I had a few adult beverages and stayed out too late, and got about an hour or so of sleep before my father picked me up around 5 a. m. to play in a golf scramble.
My allergies can give me fits on the course, so I took an allergy pill just before he arrived. On the way to the course, I became nauseous and lightheaded, and asked my father to pull over so I could get sick. Despite his concern, I assured him it was the fact that I’ d had my last drink only about a few hours before and had also just taken an allergy pill. I felt certain that combination made me feel this way and would wear off soon.
Once we arrived at the course, I had a Sprite and chewed a piece of bubblegum. The nauseous feeling subsided and the lightheadedness nearly did, too. We played about three holes, but I wasn’ t playing very well and I felt a little off balance. As we pulled up to the fourth hole, I got so dizzy I fell when I tried to get out of the cart. I couldn’ t even stand up. My teammates razzed me a bit about staying out too late the night before and not being able to handle my liquor. I, too, assumed that was exactly the problem.
I rode in the cart for the next few holes before asking my father to take me back to the car so I could sleep it off while everyone else finished golfing. After the scramble, dad took me back to the apartment and helped me climb to the second floor. He asked if I wanted to go to the hospital, but I assured him I would be fine after I got some rest. The next morning, I tried to get out of bed. I fell flat on my face. I had absolutely zero balance and could not stand or walk. Using my arms, I dragged myself to the phone and called my mother. She and my youngest brother rushed over to get me. My brother carried me down the two flights of stairs and put me in the car.
BY THE TIME WE REACHED THE HOSPITAL, I couldn’ t even hold up my head. The hospital staff greeted us at the emergency room entrance and placed me in a wheelchair. I must have looked pretty badly because they rushed me straight back.
The on-call doctor said I had an extreme ear infection, and after a bag of fluids I should be good to go. But after the bag of fluids, I tried to stand up and fell straight to the ground. The doctor quickly ordered more tests, including a CT scan and MRI. I was leaking fluid from the back of my brain. The neurosurgeon on call ordered an angiogram.
The test revealed I had a tumor on my brain stem – but the doctor couldn’ t tell if it was cancerous or not. He could only tell us that surgery would be required.
I was immediately admitted and placed in the intensive care unit( ICU). Further tests were needed to devise a plan of attack on the tumor. Surgery was scheduled for the end of the week, which just happened to be Oaks Day 1998.
I had bought a box near the finish line for Oaks and was upset that I had to miss it for a stupid surgery. I had no idea how serious my situation was. I just wanted to get through with it so I could at last watch the Kentucky Derby.
During the times that I felt halfway decent and was allowed visitors, most of the conversations I remember were about the Oaks and Derby. I really liked a horse named Indian Charlie that year. My mom, on the other hand, suggested everyone bet on Real Quiet because this week was the quietest I had ever been in my life, and he was the stablemate of the horse that I liked.( For the record, Real Quiet won the Kentucky Derby that year.)
The ICU was not a great place to be. I could only have visitors every so often and in short increments. At times, it was lonely and the pain grew worse every second. It seemed about every 10 minutes a nurse would come in and stick me or ask a bunch of questions.
After a couple of days, I had so many IVs in my arms they ran out of veins, so they sutured a line into my neck. I also wasn’ t getting enough nutrients because I couldn’ t hold any food down, so they ran a feeding tube through my nose into my stomach.( I didn’ t like that, so I ripped it out.)
As the hours passed, the pain kept getting increasing. When I was awake, all I would do was dry heave, so I tried to stay asleep as much as possible. Two days before the surgery, the pain reached a point that I, selfishly, asked God to just let me close my eyes and never wake up so I wouldn’ t be in pain anymore. I closed my eyes and went into a deep sleep. Everything went blank, and then a funny thing happened: I slowly opened my eyes and as the light hit my pupils, I saw my family. Suddenly, I realized life was worth fighting for, and that’ s exactly what I was going to do – fight with everything I had. I had so much to live for and so much more that God wanted me to do.
THE MORNING BEFORE THE SURGERY, two priests came in to bless me. One said something about anointing of the sick and the other read about last rites. It was only then that I realized just how serious my condition
26 EXTOL SPORTS / MAY 2017