2020 is a year that I will remember forever. Not because of the pandemic, necessarily, but because within the first week of this year, we received news that my wife was diagnosed with ovarian cancer – Stage Three.

Anyone who knows Chelsea understands how shocking this was for us. She is a coach at Crossfit RX in Candler Park, the healthiest, most active person I know. On top of that, she turns just 30 years old next month. This was an important lesson in humility and vulnerability for us all: the perils of life do not discriminate.

Since early January, I have juggled the three worlds of cancer treatment, collegiate athletics, and society, while they intertwined in ways that no one could have imagined. For example, I received the news of the NCAA canceling of all spring sport championships while sitting next to Chelsea in the Emory University infusion center during her third chemotherapy treatment. I then snuck back into a staff hallway to listen to a conference call between Athletic Director Charlie Cobb and all spring head coaches. Before leaving the hospital, I spoke with the team, sharing what I knew of the news, expressing uncertainty, as I paced back and forth underneath the stairs of the Winship Cancer Institute.

Cancer is unpredictable. One Friday morning in February, Chelsea woke up with severe, intense abdominal pain. Our Assistant Coach Ket Vanderpool assured me the team would be in good hands if I were to take Chelsea to the emergency room. She has stepped up for this program in my absences with an enormous amount of compassion and maturity. Five days later, Chelsea was finally released from the hospital with no explanation for her symptoms.

I remember specifically one day watching the team practice at Eagle's Landing Country Club. They were on the course in small groups and I watched them complete the Par 3 4^th Hole while standing on top of a hill. Behind my sunglasses, my eyes were filled with tears in appreciation of their support, but also from fear of the unknown. These ladies have joined Chelsea and I in our struggles this past semester and I know they are ready to celebrate in our triumph when this is behind us.

I'm grateful to have learned early on in this process about the unpredictability of disease. Unbeknownst to us, in all of the unknowns that we imagined fighting cancer would bring, we could never have anticipated facing a global pandemic while doing so. Reading the cautionary news reports, we hear terminology like 'immunocompromised' and 'high-risk' warning us about the dangers of exposing certain categories of people to the virus. With a white blood cell count below healthy levels, Chelsea is a member of these at-risk groups.

In mid-March, her doctors instructed her never to leave the house. No more work, no grocery store trips, and no walks in the parks. The only way Chelsea has seen the outside world lately is through a window, whether that of her car, or those lining a hospital room.

On Thursday, March 12, as news stories of collegiate sports cancellations dropped like bombs, I was anxious for the fate of our spring season. Of course my heart broke for our golfers who have worked tirelessly this season, adjusting to the operational changes of the program and exemplifying the new culture like pros. However, admittedly I may have been slightly selfish with my worries. This team was a welcomed distraction for me; something positive to focus on while my wife's health hung in the balance. The thought of losing that outlet in an instant was worrisome.

I'm angered when I see news stories of people protesting the stay-at-home orders. I'm frustrated when I see posts on Facebook of people ignoring the social distancing guidelines. But I try to understand that we are all experiencing very different things during this pandemic. Whether you agree or disagree with the statistics shared by our governmental agencies, and whether you are fearful of the effects our economy is facing or not, I hope we can all support the notion that staying home is an unselfish act that can safeguard the health of our communities.

Coming back into the house is a process for me due to Chelsea's high-risk status: drop groceries at the door, take credit cards out of pocket, take phone out of ziplock bag, then take gloves off. Wipe down groceries with Lysol, place items inside door, take shoes off, wash hands, put clothes in the washing machine, wash hands again, put groceries away, Lysol countertops, get in shower. I'm used to leaving the house seven days a week for office time, practice, meetings, and even outings with friends. Now, my car sits in our driveway collecting thick layers of pollen in between once-a-week excursions.

Chelsea's outlet through all of this has continued to be fitness. Search the hashtag #chemocrossfitter on Facebook or Instagram and you'll see clips of her completing workouts in our basement. Everyone is in awe of her fortitude, discipline, and good spirit – including me.

As we approach a pivotal time in Chelsea's treatment process, we are overwhelmed thinking about all of the encouragement we have received throughout this journey. Battling cancer truly is a team effort and feeling the magnitude of love and support we have been blessed with thus far has been the most effective medicine of all.

From our administrators here within Georgia State Athletics, our women's golf team members, and Coach Ket; to our families, friends, and friends we consider family; to the community at Crossfit RX, and to the complete strangers that have shown us such kindness: Thank you for being part of our team.