Lakers

May 13, 1988

May 13, 1988

 This day remains vivid in my memory even after all these years. I kept John company most of the evening.  A Lakers play-off game aired on TV– I think it was versus Utah but I can’t guarantee it. I think they won because so far it was a quiet relatively benign evening. If the Lakers had lost a playoff game at least one of us would have been in a poisonous mood.

John in young workaholic lawyer mode
John in young workaholic lawyer mode

John’s mother called him shortly after 10 PM. (I called them in Fresno and alerted them he was staying overnight at the hospital during my mad dash home earlier.) Everything appeared under control. It had been a long day and both of us were tired. I left him chatting with Florence and headed home to relieve the babysitter.

When he was working a hundred hours a week, John had this vision of the two of us watching a sunset. Kind of like this.
When he was working a hundred hours a week, John had this vision of the two of us watching a sunset. Kind of like this.

Later I would learn that shortly after I left – still on the phone with his mother – John drifted out of consciousness and coded. His mother didn’t know what happened; he stopped talking is all. Doctors and nurses raced in with life-saving methods. John watched it happen from the ceiling and thought to himself, “That’s what I get for scheduling surgery on Friday the 13th.”

At home, I was probably in bed. That night, I let all three children sleep in my room with me. Meanwhile, my unconscious husband laid under a sheet on a gurney, being raced down hospital corridors to the Intensive Care Unit.

Me with the three kids. We all appear smile-challenged in this photo.
Me with the three kids. We all appear smile-challenged in this photo.

The first I knew about any of this was at approximately 4 AM when the telephone rang beside my bed. Groggy, I answered and John’s physician identified himself. I’ll never forget what he said next. “Your husband is going to live.”

Excuse me? I dropped him off the previous morning for a minor day surgery – now you’re calling me at 4 in the morning, breathlessly sharing the good news that he’s still alive?  I wasn’t filled with confidence.

Amazed and thrilled he's alive and kicking years later.
Amazed and thrilled he’s alive and kicking years later.

On the bright side, they got one thing right – John lived and continues to do so today. Generally, I’m not superstitious but after this I’d never schedule surgery on Friday the 13th.

May 9, 1993

May 9, 1993

Jim McCann, Judith Russell, CD Rowell, me and John outside the Great Western Forum.
Jim McCann, Judith Russell, CD Rowell, me and John outside the Great Western Forum.

I rarely watched sports at all (certainly not by choice) before my obsession – some might say my addiction – with the Lakers began. A novice at rolling with the ups and downs of a long season, I took every loss to heart. Viewing the game through the lens of a die-hard fan, I was outraged at how the referees routinely called phantom fouls (and otherwise screwed) my beleaguered Lakers. Did somebody pay them to make my team lose? When obsessed, my thinking gets increasingly deranged.

1985-86 Lakers team
1985-86 Lakers team

How did this obsession begin? My very first Lakers game – an early round of the playoffs, 1986. The Forum was shaking; Laker fans were confident they’d breeze past Houston on their route to a second NBA Championship. The Lakers led the scoreboard every single second of the game -– until the last one, when Ralph Sampson drained an impossible three and the Lakers were out. Dream over. If they’d won as expected, I probably wouldn’t remember it so clearly. The out-of-nowhere last instant loss was high drama, to say the least. I was hooked.

The Forum basketball court
The Forum basketball court

John’s theory was after a loss like that, they’d come back strong and win the championship the following year so we bought our first season tickets. We were high in the rafters but we made friends with the interesting crew of people who owned the seats around us and it was a great year. They did indeed win the championship. I almost fainted, it was so exciting. We videotaped the games (VHS) so – if they won – we could watch them again when we got home.

Arty night shot of Forum
Arty night shot of Forum

Yeah. We were really that crazy about the Lakers. And it was a blast to be a fan in 87, 88 and 89  when they won everything. Less so in 90 and absolute misery as I write this. I’ll never give my heart to another team, though. It can only be broken once.

John and me in front of the Forum.
John and me in front of the Forum.

When I wrote I was a “smidge” down, I was trying to manage my emotions. I’d read that using words that minimized pain could actually reduce one’s emotional reaction. It worked, but gradually I slipped back into my catastrophizing ways. This entry is a timely reminder it’s far better to be a “smidge” disappointed than bereft because my life is over.

 


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