carbonated joy

The Season of Waiting…

Posted: December 3, 2018 in Postcards from Cancerland.

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As I write this the season of Advent has just begun.

Advent is the time leading up to Christmas.

It is time to anticipate the celebration of the inconceivable idea that God was conceived as a human.

Jesus came as a baby to rescue humanity and he brought hope, love, joy, and peace.

Advent is basically the season of waiting for God to show up.

I find myself in a season of waiting.

I find myself waiting for hair to grow back. I’ve been told that when my hair grows back it will be different. It could be curly or a different color.

I’ve been hoping that it would grow back red so that I can identify myself as transginger.

If that doesn’t happen I’m hoping for really thick black chest hair. The kind of chest hair that makes me look Italian, and gives me a place to hide my car keys.

I find myself waiting for some things to get flushed out of my body. There are still crazy things, like steroids and drugs, that are acting like that one person who is in no hurry to leave the party. They just keep hanging out, eating four hour old BBQ cocktail weenies and telling the same stories over and over.

I’m ready for my unwanted party guests to leave.

I find myself waiting for strength. I’m getting stronger every day, but I’m waiting for the day that I can salsa dance and roundhouse kick small shrubbery.

I find myself waiting for answers. What is next? What has happened? I go in for a test in a few weeks, then we wait for a few days for answers. This is the place where waiting is the toughest. As we wait, thoughts dance around in my mind. Loud time released thoughts of both probability and possibilities compete for my attention. As I wait, I find it’s better to focus on thoughts of impossibility.

AND THAT IS WHY…

I find myself waiting for a “let there be no doubt”.

let there be no doubt what happened here.

let there be no doubt who did this.

let there be no doubt that God showed up.

Advent is the season of waiting for God to show up.

That is where I find myself.

“But I will look to the LORD;

I will wait for the God of my salvation.
My God will hear me.”
—Micah 7:7

HEY YOU GUYS!!!

Posted: November 28, 2018 in Postcards from Cancerland.

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One of my favorite movies ever is The Goonies.

What’s not to love? It’s a classic underdog story, there are PIRATES, a puke story, and it produced one of the greatest music videos of all time, “The Goonies ‘R’ Good Enough” by Cyndi Lauper.

It is pure eighties greatness!

In case you haven’t seen the movie 1,873 times like me, let me give you the film factoids:

the heroes are a group of misfit kids who live in a place called the “Goon Docks”. Their families are about to all be evicted because their homes are being demolished and turned into a country club!

How’s that for drama?

Led by a slightly sickly dreamer named Mikey (who is destined to become a Hobbit!) they set out to save their homes from demolition, and, in doing so, discover an old Spanish map that leads them on an adventure to unearth the long-lost fortune of One-Eyed Willy, a legendary 17th-century pirate (and the original Goonie). During the entire adventure, they are chased by a family of criminals named the Fratellis, who want the treasure for themselves. Mama Fratelli is one of the scariest movie mothers ever. They end up saving their neighborhood and capturing the bad guys and learn some serious life lessons along the way.

The largest lesson (and one that I’m putting into practice during my current adventure) is…

Goonies never say die.

If you get knocked down, get up again!

Don’t quit.

Don’t let fear hold you back.

Life can be hard, stuff happens.

Don’t give up.

Goonies never say die.

Some other lessons are…

The Goonies are not the cool kids, or the rich kids, or the popular kids.

They were misfits.

We are all misfits sometime.

The Goonies learned that the adventure is more fun when you are with friends.

Speaking of friends, when we judge others by outward appearance we can miss the opportunity to make some of the best friends.

Chunk and Sloth show us that when we overcome fear and refuse to mistreat people who look or act different than us, incredible relationships can happen!

We all have days where we feel like The Goonies.

We even have days where we feel like Sloth.

Rise above.

Never say die.

Be kind.

Share your Baby Ruth.

We all have bad days, we all have rough spots, we face bullies.

Never say die.

Turn bad days into adventures.

The worst days can create some of the most amazing memories.

There are friends to be made, there is treasure to be found even on the worst of days.

Outsmart the things that would bring you down. Leave booty traps AND booby traps for your bullies. Leave little truth bombs that demolish the lies and remind you who and whose you are!

Realize that even though you might be a Goonie from the wrong side of town, you ‘R’ good enough!

Grab the map and let’s look for the treasure that is hidden in today…

But, first let’s all do the truffle shuffle.

Jump the Track.

Posted: November 27, 2018 in Postcards from Cancerland.

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Do you remember the cars at Six Flags that you “drove” around on the big track?

They were supercool sports cars that (if you were 42 inches tall) you got to take for a spin. You climbed into the shiny red car, hit the gas, and turned the wheel, and you THOUGHT you were really driving.

The truth was that the cars were attached to the track, the rails just guided them around the same old track again and again.

You would start and end up at the same spot, the loading station that usually resembled a old gas station.

Chemo is kind of like that except that every time you come back around to the filling station, your car gets heavier and less comfortable.

It’s a cycle…you go around the track again and again and again.

I went around six times.

You spin the steering wheel to no avail, the car does what it is supposed to do.

UNTIL…that magical day when you get to jump the track and take off in a blaze of glory.

You aren’t driving nearly as fast as you think because you are pretty sluggish, but you are out of there!

You ring a beautiful gold bell on the way out as a way to say “YEEHAW!”

I jumped the track a while back and I’ve been trying to put some distance between me and the killer cure.

It’s good to see chemo in the rear view mirror!

The farther I get away from it the stronger I get.

I had my bloodwork done yesterday and it all came back really good. Last week was ROUGH, the side effects did a number on me! But, I’m feeling much better. My strength is coming back. Now it’s just a matter of getting the chemo drugs and steroids out of my stomach and system.

I am scheduled for a PET scan in a few weeks, than we get the results a few days later.

The results will determine what’s next…

a party or plan B.

We are believing BIG for a party, a BIG party where my granddaughter and me can wear matching tiaras and dance silly dances.

In the meantime…

We drive…

We put the pedal to the metal…

We get busy living, and laughing, and loving.

Losing my Chins.

Posted: November 23, 2018 in Postcards from Cancerland.

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I have a confession to make.

When I lost my beard a while back, I didn’t handle it well.

It had been my constant companion for years.

We were quite attached.

It was the first thing I saw when I looked in the mirror.

Suddenly, it was gone.

I looked in the mirror and, instead of chullet, I saw chins.

SERIOUS chinnage.

I was suddenly very self conscious about my abundance of face.

After all, a good beard covers a multitude of chins.

I wanted more jawline than jowls, I wanted strong chiseled features that made me look like Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson.

Instead I saw fleshy neck.

I felt my chin made my head look like a slightly misshapen Vienna sausage.

So when I messaged family and friends or took selfies, I conveniently cropped out my chins. I made it look like my face began somewhere around my bottom lip.

I considered only wearing turtlenecks.

I tried to stretch my face to distribute my chunky face.

My wife called me on it.

She asked why I was erasing part of my face.

She seems to be fond of my face…all of it.

I’m quite fond of her and her opinion matters more to me than anyone else’s.

So, I looked in the mirror again.

I realized that I’ve always had chins.

It wasn’t an issue until I fell into the trap of chin comparison.

In an Instagram world, we feel the pressure to filter and crop.

We want to offer the world a different version of ourselves, something less real, not as flawed.

We banish the blemishes.

We take pictures from flattering angles to try to hide the things that make us feel less.

We try to hide our chin, or wrinkles, or butt, or gut.

It carries over to other things too.

We don’t want people to see ALL of us, whether it’s our face or our finances.

We see the seemingly perfect social media life of others and we don’t want to come up short.

So we prop ourselves up to measure up to unreal expectations.

We are so afraid to be left behind that we never let ourselves be truly known.

Comparison is a cancer.

It steals joy.

It kills individuality.

It’s a crime against humanity.

We are quick to compare our condition and station.

In the last few months, the Instagram world has given me front rows seats to see people living amazing lives while I’ve been confined and restricted.

When I compare, I always come up short.

BUT, here’s the unchanging deal…

I’m NOT them!

I’m not meant to live their life and they aren’t meant to live mine.

If they are my friends, I should celebrate when their life is amazing, instead of compare and covet.

Stop comparing.

Comparing opens the door for complaining.

Complaining turns me into an art critic instead of an artist.

I criticize the art that the Creator made in me and others.

I think He takes that personal.

I would rather celebrate the uniqueness of you and me.

AND that includes my chin.

Real wins.

As I write this, my weird beard is making a comeback.

I’m growing the chullet back, not to cover anything, but to celebrate EVERYthing.

Feelings, Nothing More Than Feelings…

Posted: November 19, 2018 in Postcards from Cancerland.

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Say kids…

Today’s secret word is…cumulative.

Cumulative is a big word that means: “increasing or increased in quantity, degree, or force by successive additions.”

Cumulative is a great word when it applies to ice cream, sandwiches, or interest earned.

It’s not such a great word when it applies to chemo side effects.

People warned me that this would happen.

They said, “It will build up and slam you upside the face.”

I doubted it would be a big deal.

I was wrong.

The last few days I have felt the accumulative effect of six cycles of industrial strength chemo therapy.

I have felt it hard.

It has built up.

It’s been like putting on six different scratchy orange tight sweaters and trying to dance.

It’s complicated.

It’s like the end of a Rocky movie, you know that Rocky is overjoyed about going the distance, but he is just beat up and it’s going to take a little time to recuperate.

That’s me right now.

Let me unfurl all of my feels…

I feel like a Stretch Armstrong.

Stretch Armstrong was a 1970s squishy action figure shaped as a short, stocky man with stylish blond hair wearing black trunks. He could be stretched to unbelievable lengths.

It was creepy.

I’m feeling that.

I feel like my face is fighting itself.

I feel like a Sumo Wrestler named Carl has been standing on my head.

I feel like the trash compactor in Star Wars.

My stomach is trashed and making strange guttural noises.

Most food tastes like metallic space garbage right now.

I feel a special kind of tired.

I haven’t slept longer than forty minutes at a time. Because of steroids and fluids I’m running to the bathroom at least twelve times a night.

I’m an unbelievably gassy little dude.

My lucky wife bears the brunt of that.

I’m feeling dazed and confused…

Because of the sleepless nights, I haven’t dreamt much, but I did have one drug fueled dream that Smurfette (with perfectly manicured eyebrows and a camouflage outfit) wanted to be my life coach and help me live “my best life now”.

Did I mention that I’m feeling dazed and confused…

This round, I’ve hallucinated a bit…the lightbulbs have swelled up and the bathroom floor has become paisley.

That’s pretty wild.

Six rounds of accumulation creates some crazy feelings.

I feel like I should be accumulating different things…

We all accumulate.

Life builds.

It’s amazing what we allow to accumulate in our lives.

One big thing that we accumulate are words.

People say negative, hurtful things about us. It builds up.

It can leave you feeling pretty insignificant.

Don’t accumulate lies!

Look for the truth.

Look for the good.

What if we accumulated joy?

What if we allowed the good memories and giggles to build up?

We can also allow good stuff to accumulate.

I’ve allowed hundreds of pictures of my granddaughter to accumulate on my phone.

That’s a very good thing.

Love has an amazing accumulative effect.

Build it up, then give it away!

You will realize you didn’t lose anything, the more you give the more you gain.

That should make you feel pretty awesome.

The dust begins to settle…

Posted: November 17, 2018 in Postcards from Cancerland.

The fighter catches his breath and takes a seat.

The sixth round is over.

He is wiped out, it’s been a tough round that was delayed because of a sucker punch.

But, now it’s over.

And now the little fighter awaits a decision.

No matter what happens the fighter will never be the same.

He has been inducted into a circle that he was blissfully unaware of six months ago.

He has experienced new levels of both joy and suffering.

He has seen and felt deep pain and deeper hope.

He has made some brave new friends.

He will never be the same.

He has experienced love stronger than he ever imagined…

The love of his good and faithful God,

The love of his amazing wife and family,

The love of incredible friends.

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls…

Today, I happily parted ways with the infusion bag.

I finished my sixth round of chemo!

I even have a certificate to prove it.

It has been a wild ride!

For the last five months we have had a crazy cycle of treatment, side effects, and rebuild.

Then do it all over again.

Today was the end of the last scheduled treatment week.

I’m a Chemo graduate.

College was easier!

So now we work through the side effects.

And after a tough fight, we await the decision.

I feel groggy and disoriented, like I have a bean bag chair duct taped to my head.

I suddenly have whiskers growing on my chin, I haven’t been this excited about peach fuzz since I was seventeen.

The steroids have made my cheeks so rosy that I currently resemble a care bear.

I have learned so much about faith, hope, and love.

I will never be the same.

We go in for some bloodwork in a few days and start some scans that will give us some answers.

In the meantime…

It’s a chilly November night, but I sit inside my warm house eating some beans and cornbread with the beautiful queen of my pirate heart.

And I’m so ridiculously thankful for warmth, and life, and friends, and family, and hope, and healing, and new seasons and stories, and for the Holy Spirit who continues to hold my hand and walk with me…

One last night with the bag.

Posted: November 16, 2018 in Postcards from Cancerland.

To the tune of “Candle in the Wind”…sort of.

Goodbye infusion bag

I’ve got one last long night with you

You had the needle to hold yourself

While I failed to sleep a full night through

You woke me up every 44 minutes

As you pumped drugs into my hairless chest

You’ve been my constant companion

Every three weeks I’ve worn you like a vest

And it seems to me you made my life hard to navigate

Never knowing how to shower or get dressed myself

I laid in bed sweating with a crazy high heart rate

Listening to the soft rhythm of your wheezing self

Goodbye infusion bag
From the old dude with one night left with you
Man, I’m not really gonna miss you at all

I just hope you did your job and did chemo Kung fu

And caused the belly bully to take a forever fall

Spock Sock!

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Image — Posted: November 15, 2018 in Postcards from Cancerland.

I love comebacks!!

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Image — Posted: November 14, 2018 in Postcards from Cancerland.

Bop It!

Posted: November 13, 2018 in Postcards from Cancerland.

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Once upon a time there was an electronic game called Bop It, actually, it’s still around, it’s just much more complicated. It’s kind of a hot potato game where you follow instructions (bop it, pull it, twist it, etc.) and pass the game on, originally there were only three instructions, now there are like sixteen different chirpy electronic instructions.

This is my Bop It story.

It’s not pretty.

It’s not really family friendly.

You’ve been warned…

Years ago, I was flying home after speaking at a youth event in southern Louisiana. I had taken my bop-it game to use as an icebreaker.

I put my ratty little carry-on bag through security in New Orleans. Suddenly, I saw the tall, sweaty TSA agent nervously looking at me and calling for a bag check. I’m used to getting patted down at airport security because I look a little freaky, I had a weird beard. But, this was a new level of suspicion. Then I realized what was happening. I remembered the bop-it. It really did resemble a weapon of mass destruction. So I reassured him it was a mostly harmless toy. After 6 agents opened the bag I showed them how it worked and we all ended up playing for about 10 minutes. Finally, once the line was really backed up they let me take my toy and leave.

At this point, I REALLY need to go to the bathroom, so I darted into the friendly airport facilities. It was a full house, the only thing open was a urinal, which I normally don’t use because I’m 5’1” tall and most urinals come up to my chest…which is not cool, man!

BUT…as I mentioned I REALLY needed to go, so I hunkered up to a urinal and put my bag on the ground between my feet (probably not a hygienically wise decision, but whatever.) I went about my business…

A well dressed businessman started using the stall next to me. We were following all the necessary man bathroom rules: no talking, no eye contact, etc.

BUT THEN…

at that very moment, for some God forsaken reason my bop-it went off and said in a chirpy voice…

“BOP IT, PULL IT, TWIST IT!”

The businessman didn’t even finish, zip up, or wash his hands, he just turned and ran from the bathroom.

Other men looked at me with disgust and caution.

I picked up my bag and sheepishly walked out not knowing what to expect right outside the bathroom door.

Would I be arrested?

I sheepishly boarded the plane and flew home.

I felt very fortunate to escape Louisiana without a restraining order.

Sometimes, when you least expect it, life goes off.

Things get noisy at the worst times.

The unexpected bops you upside the head.

The unknown pulls you in a hundred different directions at once.

The unwanted twists you like a cheap piece of saltwater taffy.

It leaves you scared to go outside.

What do you do when life is like an out of control electronic game?

Know when to hand it off!

There is just so much of life that we can’t handle on our own…pass it off…lay it down.

Put it in the hands that are bigger and stronger and wiser.

Cast your cares on the one who is crazy about you.