Surviving Cancer, Surviving Romance

In 2011, the night I graduated, I came home to find a DVD with the words “play me” on it. Thinking it was a gag gift from some friends, I played it. The screen popped up with Ron Gardenhire inviting me to Minnesota to help him manage a Twins game as part of my Make-a-Wish.

Representatives from the Make-a-Wish Foundation had visited me a couple of months prior to talk to me about the program and to tell me that I was eligible for a wish. Hearing Gardenhire speak to me was a dream come true. I would get to hang out and manage the team I grew up watching and get to see my extended family. I was speechless.

Pulling into the players/coaches’ entrance at Target Field in a limousine on an unseasonably cold day in June made me feel like I was one of the players. Security officers escorted me into the stadium. Sitting on the manager’s desk were my own personalized jersey and jacket. As I was getting dressed, I heard a very familiar voice start speaking to me. Twins manager since 2002, Gardenhire and I were standing in the same room having a conversation. I remember getting a little shy (something that doesn’t happen to me very often at all). Here I am, an 18-year-old kid, hanging out with a major league baseball team.

I was taking in the scenery, admiring what a beautiful ballpark Target Field is, chatting with the players, such as fan favorites Justin Morneau and Michael Cuddyer, while they went through their pre-game routines. It was all so emotional for me. I never ever dreamed something like that would happen to me.

I hung out in centerfield watching batting and fielding practice, snagging fly balls if they came in my direction. As the pregame activities ended, I was informed that it was time for a press conference with Gardenhire and the local media. My heart started beating really fast with each step I took toward the dugout.

Everyone who knows me knows that I have no problem talking and am not shy at all in front of the camera. I had done an interview with ESPN for their annual summer series My Wish, where they partner with the Make-A-Wish foundation to turn sports wishes into reality. I’m an outgoing person, but something about being in front of the Minneapolis-Saint Paul media and other team personnel scared me a bit.

Most of the questions were directed at Gardenhire, which was perfectly fine with me. I gathered my thoughts and listened to him give his insights on the night’s game, which had the Twins facing the Texas Rangers. When that first question was directed at me –– “What drew you to this team?” –– it was my time to shine. I just started in with stats and info about the Twins. That helped me settle in and calmed my nerves.

Throughout this process, I didn’t think about my illness at all. I was having too much fun and was in awe of everything. For as much as I blamed cancer for everything, it started to open up some doors for me.

Back in the clubhouse after the presser, I was sitting in front of Morneau’s locker and admiring all his jerseys, bats, and miscellaneous stuff when I heard a deep booming voice behind me.

“Michael, how do you like everything so far?”

I turned around and saw future Hall of Famer Jim Thome. It was the best feeling in the world getting to talk to a player of his stature. I told him I was like a kid in a candy store, and everything about this team was super-cool. He laughed, and then a couple of minutes later he returned with a signed bat, which also happened to be the same bat that he used to hit career home run 500. There was so much I wanted to say in that moment, but all I could muster out was “thank you” as tears started filling my eyes. I did not want this day to end.

I had a couple more duties to fulfill before the game started. One was meeting Rangers manager Ron Washington and delivering the lineup card to home plate. The other was getting the opportunity to throw out the ceremonial first pitch.

I was pretty excited hearing my name blared across the loud speaker as I walked to the pitcher’s mound to the cheers of tens of thousands of fans.

Before I threw the pitch, I took a moment to admire the stadium and the fans and take in the scenery surrounding the ballpark. What a day it had been, but I snapped back to reality because I wanted to make the perfect pitch, so I reared back fired and … ended up bouncing the ball to home plate. Not quite the pitch I had hoped for, so that squashed any dreams I had of being the next Randy Johnson.

Enjoying the game from a luxury suite with all my family and relatives was truly something I will never forget. If it hadn’t been for that day’s activities, I wouldn’t have known that I wanted to pursue a career in sports broadcasting. It was an unbelievable experience that I will never forget.

This whole experience really showed me that there is life after cancer, and even though cancer knocked me down temporarily, I got back up and won’t stop living life to the fullest.

As much as I try to forget about everything that happened to me during cancer, it is something that will always be a part of me. I still have nightmares of it coming back in a more severe form, but if it does come back, I’ll be ready mentally –– I have already been through it once, and I know what to expect.

Cancer really messes with you mentally and physically. I had an un-descended testicle surgically removed when I was a baby, plus the other testicle removed when I was 17. I take weekly testosterone shots, and that stuff messes with confidence, the fact that you can’t produce your own testosterone, that you have to get injections. How do you tell a girl that you have no nuts?

My dating life became different. Telling your story to a girl you really like, letting your guard down, and wondering how she will take it is something that I struggle with quite a bit. A lot of girls have been scared off. I can’t blame them. It’s a lot to handle. A lot of girls want kids. I can give a girl anything, except for a biological kid of our own, and it hurts. The fact that I can’t have biological children was probably one of the hardest things I had to hear. A lot of girls I know want to experience pregnancy and everything that comes with it. But everything happens for a reason, and it’s just something I have to deal with and cope with.

From my cancer experience, I am a different person. I was fortunate enough to graduate high school on time and start college on time. I am now graduating this May with a degree in mass communication with a radio/TV focus and doing whatever I can to raise awareness of and put an end to this disease. I have served on numerous patient councils, such as the AYA program at Cook Children’s hospital, sharing my experience with health care professionals so they can pass on the information and help make other patients’ lives easier, or as easy as they can. I became a mentor so I could be there for patients, the way so many people were there for me during my battle. It has made me a better person.

Testicular cancer is the leading cancer in men ages 15-35 and when detected early is 95 percent curable.

Cancer may have temporarily knocked me down, but I got back up and I fought, and I will continue to fight until a cure is found. I don’t want anyone to have to go through what I did. The key for not just testicular cancer but any cancer is early detection. Don’t be scared to talk to your doctor or any health care professional.

For as much as I wanted to ask out Kaitlyn throughout the years, I never did. I still talk to her every once in a while. She’s a graduating senior at Texas Tech. My dating life sucks and has for quite some time, because the trauma that is my cancer still hangs over me every time I start to talk with an attractive girl. But, hey, it’s got to turn around sometime, right?

Michael Acosta is a senior studying communications at Texas Wesleyan University.