I want you to define a champion in your own words, and then take a look at what this definition describes a champion as.
Champion: someone who gets up even when they can't. They don't come to get it all, they come to give it all.
Thanks to the song and lyrics of “The Bravest” by Sir Rosevelt, we are all defined as champions. There are days when we feel like we can’t get up and want to throw in the white flag. But we understand that pain is temporary and will pass by at some point in time. Battling a disability is a battle like no other, and champions are being made out of it. Every day we put in our blood, sweat and tears to fight our battle just like champion athletes do. Need examples? Enjoy.
It’s simple, our blood that goes into our battle is our seizures or other negative effects of our disability. While these days come with great physical and emotional scars, these are the days that make us stronger. As much as you and I hate them, the end result of being a stronger person is a reward we have to look at when we have these rough patches along the way. Without blood, there is no fight.
Our sweat is the continued grind to the doctor appointments, hospitals, medical tests, etc. Long days that test our emotions and mental strength. Just like athletes, we have continued support from family, friends and even the doctors we’re meeting with. Just because we’re not in a gym or training facility doesn’t mean we’re not putting sweat and grind into our battle. Every day is a fight, and no one has given up.
There’s always two forms of tears in a battle; tears of joy and sadness. Those days when we have a seizure or bad side effect from medicine can easily bring us to tears of sadness. The best part of those tears is that those tears go away quick. The tears of joy after finding out you just went a year without a seizure can last a lifetime. No battle has one set of tears. Trust me, I’ve experienced it both medically and in sports.