carbonated joy

We got a plan to beat the belly bully today.

We are still trying to figure out timing and when this rumble is going to start.

There are a lot of moving pieces, It depends on when the hospital can insert the port and do an echocardiogram.

But then it’s on!

The cancer chump is going down.

Once treatment starts it will happen every three weeks six times. I will get a delightful cocktail of super aggressive chemo, steroids, and fluids every day during treatment week. I also get to wear a pump all the time for a few days during treatment week, I will carry the pump in a tasteful man purse.

In another fun fashion choice, I will be occasionally wearing a paper mask…pretty much anytime I want to go outside. My immunity will be very low throughout the entire process so I have to live a germ free lifestyle, that will be interesting. Most of my favorite things are germy.

So…18 weeks of treatment…

What is 18 weeks in the span of a lifetime?

It’s basically a semester! I’m ready to see what I learn and how I grow during this semester.

Many people have asked me about my chullet:  is it safe? Is it endangered chin fruit? Well…pending some kind of beard miracle, I will lose the chullet.

That’s going to be tough, the chullet has been my fuzzy constant companion for years. It has proclaimed that there is a party on my face. It has served as a scarf in the winter. I’ve hidden food in it. I’ve carried my car keys in it.

I’m going to miss it.

I will probably also lose my eyebrows too, so I’m going to be one freaky looking little dude. You’ve been warned!! Picture Uncle Fester in cargo shorts.

I’m thinking about using a sharpie to draw on eyebrows and facial hair. My look can change daily depending on mood…”these are my angry eyebrows, these are my confused brows. Today I have a Frito Bandido mustache, today I’m Burt Reynolds, today I’ve got a hipster soul patch.” The possibilities for self expression are endless. The chullet will grow back after treatment, but it might grow back different. I’m hoping it grows back red! I’ve always secretly wanted to be a ginger.

I’m ready to step into the octagon, or the infusion room as the case may be.

Let’s do this thing!

The Lord fights for me.

I’m ready to come out on the other side of this semester…smarter, whole, more in love with my Savior, my family, and friends.

Look for me, I will be the hairless, masked little dude with the man purse doing a very undignified happy dance.

I woke up feeling it, the suddenly explainable knot in my stomach. I’ve been feeling it for a while and blaming it on stress. Now I know it’s something else. 

It’s biopsy day and we are driving downtown. 

We find ourselves waiting in Charlotte traffic.

Today, I put on my JOY REBEL t-shirt, I’m pretty sure that it gives me superpowers, and I bravely march into the hospital like a big boy.

It was a super complicated maze just to check in. We went to about seven different desks, talked to several helpful medical professionals, and finally ended up at a brightly colored kiosk. Then we were sent to two different waiting rooms. 

We find ourselves waiting. 

Waiting rooms are interesting places full of stories that have been put on hold. 

It’s a community of “the waiting”. 

Nobody likes to wait. Nobody wants to be there.

So you kill your time with old magazines and home improvement shows on the fuzzy television.

I think it would be better if they showed nonstop old Marx Brothers movies. 

Our friend Brenda was waiting with us, she is awesome.

After waiting for a while I was taken back for the ultrasound biopsy and told to hike up my shirt. 

I got the goop on my belly. I saw the Doppler radar screen. But, It turns out that I have mischievous bowels, they kept getting in the way. They don’t see a straight shot to the belly bully. 

So we were moved to another waiting room to wait for a cat scan biopsy. 

(Is it really a surprise to anyone that I have ornery body parts?)

I was taken back for the cat scan and told to drop my cargo shorts. 

Through this process, I’m getting used to people calling me Luther as I tell them my birth date over and over again.

I’m also getting over some body issues, I will now basically drop my cargo shorts in front of any stranger that asks. 

I laid on my side and got pictures taken of my insides again. 

they were still unsure about sticking a big needle in my gut.

So we waited to talk to another doctor for a couple of hours who had a plan to outwit my intruding bowel. It worked, I laid on my belly as they stuck a needle as big as a pixie stick into my back and sucked out four chunks of the ugliness. 

The samples have been sent to the lab and we wait to find out the legal name of my belly bully.

That is the first step in kicking his ass. 

And so we find ourselves waiting…

When I was growing up there was a roller skating rink in my hometown called Skate Ranch. It was a great place for a seventh grader to spend a Saturday afternoon. It was a big metal building that smelled like socks, pretzels and carpet cleaner. There was loud music and greasy food and girls!
My mom would give me five bucks and drop me off in her Dodge Dart.
And I would hit the rink…literally.
I was never a great skater, or even what you might call a mediocre skater.
I fell down ALOT.
But I tried!
I would try to skate around the rink at least once, usually to the beat of Wango Tango by Ted Nugent.
I had my own unique skating style.
It was called the “wobble and cling”.
I was ridiculously wobbly as I clung to the wall. Then after one painful lap, I would head for the concession stand to consume nachos and an Icee.
There were usually skate parties happening, I was almost never invited.
There were certain things that happened every Saturday…
They would turn down the lights, turn on the big disco ball and have the couple’s skate.
I never had the confidence to actually dance with another human being, so THAT is when I would hit the pinball games. I left my skates on because I was self conscious about my dirty socks. Playing the KISS pinball game with skates on was tricky!
The couple’s skate never lasted long. Usually, the length of one Barry Manilow song.
Then the REAL fun would start, the games!
There was one rink game where you picked a corner and the rink attendant would roll some huge pink fuzzy dice. That was fun, but we were all waiting for the king of the rink.
The game that was as fun to watch as play.
Eventually we would be rewarded as the attendant with the tight referee shirt and whistle would come out with two poles and a stick.
It was FINALLY time for the King of all skate rink games…LIMBO!!
The rules were simple, you had to go lower and lower to get underneath the stick without touching the stick or hitting the ground.
The challenge was to see how low you could go.
The song would start with a calypso beat…
“Every limbo boy and girl
All around the limbo world,
Gonna do the limbo rock
All around the limbo clock,
Jack be limbo, Jack be quick
Jack go unda limbo stick…”
Skaters would pass under the stick, if you made it, you moved to the next round, until finally someone would do the backward splits and win the game.
I was never really good at limbo. You might think that because of my natural proximity to the ground that I might be. I mean I start low, right?, how hard can it be for me to go a little lower.
Turns out, it’s pretty tricky.
For starters I was on skates.
Second, I have no real sense of balance even without wheels on my feet.
I was always out by the second round.
The only reason that I ever even attempted limbo was to get the attention of someone that I liked.
This always backfired.
I would be showing off for that cute girl, and suddenly, she got to witness me splitting my toughskin jeans.
Awkward.
I never became the king of the limbo stick.
But, that’s alright, because, the limbo king is a friend of mine.
Jesus is the undisputed limbo king.
That’s right, man!
Jesus is amazing at limbo AND He does it for the same reason as me!
God stoops to get the attention of someone He likes…YOU!
“The WORD became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood.” John 1 (MSG)
Jesus is the God who goes low because of love.
He does everything he can to come into our world to let us know that we are known and loved.
He goes low.
How low can He go?
He stooped down to the point of becoming one of us, He experienced all of the hopes and hurts of being human.
How low can He go?
He became a completely dependent baby. The Creator was carried and cared for by the creation.
How low can He go?
He grew up subject to earthly parents and authorities.
How low can He go?
He hung out with a group of misfits, outsiders, and weirdos. He made it clear there was a place on the skate rink for EVERYBODY.
How low can He go?
He died a horrible death on a stick on a pole.
He turns the game upside down.
Suddenly, low is high, last is first…
How high can He go?
He beat death.
How high can He go?
He started the greatest skate party of all time.
How high can He go?
He invites us ALL to the party, even when we can’t skate, even when we have dirty socks.
God stoops down low to get the attention of someone He loves.
Jesus is the God who goes low because of love.
He is the King.
Start up the disco ball!