Golf Kept Her Alive

By Sam Adams

Dani Urman starts a round of golf by hopping onto the tee box with the use of crutches. She puts the crutches on the ground—while managing to balance the club of choice against her body. Settled in her stance, Urman, a lefty, strikes the ball, picks up the crutches, then hops away to put her club in the bag. And then she is driven by cart to the ball for her next shot.

For Urman, the tiring ritual is an exercise in patience, poise, perseverance, and, most of all, passion.

Two years ago Urman was considered to be one of Colorado’s elite female junior golfers. Today she is a 16-year-old sophomore on Cherry Creek High School’s girls’ varsity golf team. In between, she survived osteosarcoma— a cancerous bone tumor that can develop during the period of rapid growth that occurs during adolescence.

Last September, doctors at Presbyterian St. Luke Hospital declared Urman to be cancer-free. She’s been trying to make up for lost time on the golf course ever since. It hasn’t been easy. She can’t walk without the use of crutches because her left knee and thigh bone were replaced with a titanium rod.

“I’ve got a nice long scar, but I think it’s cool,” she says. “One shoe has an extra inch so that my legs are the same length.”

Emotion gets the better of Evelinda Urman’s voice as she conveys feelings about her daughter’s courageous and successful eight-month fight against cancer.

“Golf kept Dani alive,” she says, unable to hold back tears. Later, her voice chokes up again while recalling a poignant moment during Dani’s recovery period late last summer.

“We’re coming back from the hospital after a post-surgery chemo treatment,” she says. “Dani has the bucket she uses to vomit on the way home. We’re driving behind Denver Country Club. She says, ‘Pull over. I just want to see the golf course.’

“She’s . . . she’s tough.”

“Cancer,” Evelinda Urman emphatically points out, “is the No. 1 disease that kills our youth.” But other than a slight affect on her follow-through, the disease hasn’t done much to hinder Urman’s ability to swing the clubs.

Urman shot 80 for Cherry Creek in a recent competition held at Longmont’s Twin Peaks Golf Club. Standing near the tee box at the par-4 fifth hole, she pulled the Popeye cover off her left-handed driver, hopped to the tee box, laid down her crutches and smacked the ball 250 yards into the center of the fairway. The other players are on their way up the fairway before Urman can grasp her crutches and hop away from the tee box.

The one thing Urman isn’t able to enjoy is friendly banter while walking the fairways with her teammates and competitors. They walk the course. She rides in a cart. “Even though I’m playing with everyone, I’m kinda not playing with them,” Urman says. “But it’s better than nothing. What’s weird is, no one that I’ve played with has asked why I’m in a cart or why I’m on crutches. I guess they think I’ve got a sprained ankle or something.”

The Colorado Golf Association granted Urman permission to be driven around in a cart during competition. The decision to allow her use of a cart during competition due to permanent physical disability was unprecedented, says Dustin Jensen, director of youth programs for Colorado Golf Association.

Once CGA offered a favorable ruling, the Colorado High School Activities Association followed suit.

“We’ve received request for carts on walking-only events, for things such as sprained ankles and other injuries. But those requests were denied,” Jensen says. “The United States Golf Association uses this same policy, so we followed their lead.

“Because of the permanent physical disability, Dani was granted use of the cart. Due to the fact that Dani does not have her driver’s license, a person who possesses a valid license is required to drive her at events. If caddies or coaches are not allowed in the event, that person is simply her driver. They cannot discuss the game or assist Dani in any way.”

At the start of her freshman year Urman anxiously awaited tryouts for Cherry Creek’s golf team. For several weeks prior to the tryouts she complained to family members about feeling tired and having a pain in her left leg.

“I would tease her because she literally would sleep for 14 hours, wake up and say, ‘I’m tired’” says Max Urman, Dani’s fraternal twin brother. “I thought it was funny that I’d have nine hours of sleep and run circles around her.” One doctor suggested iron deficiencies. Another suggested growing pains.

“They never brought up cancer,” Max says.

On Jan. 20, 2010, the family received confirmation that Dani had cancer, but she wasn’t able to fully grasp the diagnosis. Her mind still was clouded by the anesthetics administered for the biopsy.

“The next day it really set in,” she says. “I remember calling all my friends to tell them. When I saw them all, their eyes were red and puffy. It was awful, because I felt like I was hurting them.

“Everything just changed suddenly. There was no point of transition. But I heard it, accepted it and then just moved on. At first it’s kind of fun because you’re not on any of the treatment yet. All my friends came to my house. There’s tons of food and yummy stuff—cake, chocolates. So it was fun, because you’re hanging out with your friends for days . . .

“But all of a sudden you go to the hospital and that fun stops.”

Urman’s first round of chemotherapy treatment triggered panic, as she mistakenly was infused with 48 hours worth of chemo—in a one-hour period. “A cardiologist comes in . . . they weren’t prepared and they were afraid. It was horrible,” Evelinda Urman says. “They were worried about her heart.”

“It was okay to take in that much,” Dani Urman says. “But it makes your side effects infinitely worse.”

Another effect of the chemo was that she felt “isolated. But I had so many kind nurses reach out to me to make me feel better. I learned that their simple acts of kindness made a big difference. Now, at school, I take time to notice kids that seem to feel left out. So I smile, say hello, even offer to have them sit with me at lunch. I find that it makes them happy. I want everyone to know that simple acts of kindness can make a big difference to everyone.”

A year ago on April 19—10 days before her 15th birthday—doctors removed Urman’s knee and thigh bone. The cancer left its scar on Urman’s leg and her gait. In March she started aquatic therapy to improve her ability to walk. “It’s so fun, but your body is so light that you just walk,”

Urman says.”I remember dreaming about walking. I could still remember how it felt to walk normally. Now I just feel like walking normally is like limping a ton,” she says. “That’s normal to me. I can’t even imagine how it feels (to walk regularly) any more. I never thought it would take me this long.”

Once she was cleared to resume playing golf, Urman wasted little time grabbing her clubs—and crutches. “She fell the first time she tried putting,” Max says. Last December she started work on chipping. By the time tryouts came around, Urman was confident she would make Cherry Creek’s team.

“I had doubts,” Cherry Creek coach Bob Kubiak says. “Knowing the severity of her operation and eight months of chemotherapy . . . I knew she would show up, but I didn’t think she would play so well.

“Everything she’s gotten to this point, she’s earned it—including our respect. When she felt down about turning in a bad score, I had to remind her that she’s battled cancer. One bad round is nothing compared to what she’s been through.”

Kubiak makes sure to bring documented approval for her use of a cart to every competition. Opposing coaches have inquired as to why Urman uses crutches. “Many of them don’t know Dani’s story,” he says. “Once they hear it, they’re supportive.”

While others are curious to see how well she plays, Urman is more concerned with how long she can sustain good play during a full round. “Nobody understands how tired I can get from playing nine holes,” she says. “It’s like, if someone had a running day for soccer practice, and they just ran around the field the whole time—for, I don’t know, maybe an hour.

“I guess, comparatively to when I was on chemo, I feel so much stronger that sometimes it’s hard to judge how tired I actually am. I used to be tired all the time, no matter what. Even if I slept all day long, I’d still be tired.

“Now I feel like I’m full of energy, but I’m definitely not. I come out and golf, go home and I’m ready for bed right then.”

After her surgery, family members warned Urman not to get too excited about playing golf again. They made her angry.

How angry? Mad enough to shoot a 79 in February—playing her first full round since the surgery. “Yeah, but then I shot 92 the next day,” Urman recalled, giggling.

“I thought I was going to be able to play golf. Always. I just didn’t think it would take so long for me to start playing. I always thought about golf the whole way through, and I wanted to play really bad.”

Urman is doing quite on the golf course and in the classroom, with a 4.6 weighted grade-point average. Don’t be fooled by her playful, doll-like looks. Dani Urman is a fierce competitor on the golf course. She loves to play and hates to lose.

The win over cancer on her scorecard proves it.

Contributing Editor Sam Adams is an award-winning writer and standup comedian. Visit him at likethebeer.com.