Chapter 58: Choose your own Adventure. Thank you, Dad.

Dad and me, celebrating residency graduation. Dad, you have much more hair than I do this month!! :)

The past few weeks have been extremely busy. With a new chief resident role, a new boyfriend, a book in process, and the start of my second cycle of chemotherapy, time has flown by. 

This weekend, I took a short getaway with one of my best girlfriends. Marisa and I drove north from the Twin Cities to the quiet, peaceful northern city of Tofte, MN. We spent the weekend hiking up winding, wooded trails, enjoying the cool air coming off of the shores of Lake Superior.

While up north, I started cycle two of chemotherapy. Given the wonderful news I received from my recent MRI (no sign of active cancer), my oncologist and I decided to continue monthly cycles of chemotherapy in an aggressive attempt to keep me cancer-free for years. We are both very hopeful this plan will work.

Day one of chemotherapy went just fine. Minimal nausea, minimal fatigue. Marisa and I hiked a solid 8 miles through the woods before we needed to stop. It was a glorious day. On our journey, we got a little lost. As we hiked past another adventurer, we stopped to ask her if the trail we were on crossed the river up ahead. She told us, “You can either keep going and cross the river or bypass the river the hike over a rocky pass instead, It’s a choose your own adventure type of trail.”

Choose your own adventure. I liked this. I woke up this morning and called my father, who (at 6:30am) was already awake reviewing legal documents I had selfishly asked for his help with.

Given that it is Father’s Day, I spent a lot of time today thinking about the profound, undeniable impact my father has had on my life. When I think of the person who most epitomizes “choose your own adventure,” I think of my father.

My father has skills and expertise in more subjects than I can possibly count. He has been an attorney, a pilot, a flight instructor, an architect, an accountant, an investment banker of sort, a charity board member, a husband, a farther, a dog grandfather (I know he will be a great human grandfather as well someday…but now this one’s on you, Matt!), a brother, an uncle, a friend, and so many other roles. My dad can fix houses, repair roofs, build furniture, draw better than anyone I know, review complicated legal paperwork and tax documents in minutes, and win more arguments than I like to admit.

My father is, simply put, a genius. He is not very involved on social media and stays relatively out of the public eye despite his many achievements. He is humble and not many know the enormous variety of skills he can perform.

As the fellow hiker passed me yesterday and told me to “choose my own adventure,” I reflected on the life of my dad, a man who has chosen so many adventures, learned from them, and passed on his lessons to his children daily without expecting anything in return.

When I faced the daunting challenge of applying to medical school, my dad told me I could do it, without a doubt. When I graduated from medical school and matched into my first-choice residency four years later, my dad proudly cheered me on as I received my doctorate. I looked into the audience and saw him smiling, proud of the adventure he had known I would succeed at long before I even knew.

Three years later, when I called him from Thailand to tell him I had been diagnosed with a brain tumor, he spoke calmly on the phone, reassuring me that this adventure would turn out ok, too. We would get through it, together, and so far, we have.

When I wrote the first manuscript of my book, my dad read and edited it within hours. When I moved into my own apartment, signed a book deal, brokered a new insurance policy, got divorced, and quite recently decided to put an offer in on my own home, my dad did not just emotionally support me; he also taught me how to read a contract efficiently and intelligently, how to negotiate a deal, and how to be a smart business woman. Through every adventure I chose in this wild and exciting life, I feel more prepared to succeed because of lessons my father has taught me.

To my dad, I love you dearly. You have always inspired me to choose my own adventure. You have done so my whole life, all the while instilling in me a humble confidence that I can succeed.

To all of the fathers, new fathers, grandfathers, fathers-to-be, dog fathers, hopeful fathers- know that daughters everywhere love you dearly. Thank you for giving us some of the greatest gifts in this life, courage and strength to chose our own adventures with intelligence, bravery, and confidence.

Fondly,

Courtney

©CB2020