Bouncy Swing

We finally put the bouncy swing up this week for Palmer.  She thinks it's pretty fun!  Linkan doesn't yet understand that baby doesn't like being flung across the living room or spun at breakneck speed so we have to watch real closely.  We let Linkan terrorize her "Violet" puppy in the swing all she wants.

Motorboat

Palmy learned how to blow raspberries or "motorboat" this week. :)

Sweet Cornbread Muffins

In an attempt to reduce some of the paper clutter in my house, I'm adding some of my favorite recipes to my blog.  If you follow our blog for other reasons, sorry!...I promise that this will not turn into a cooking blog.  I just plan to put a few of my favs up here.  I don't know what I love more about these...the batter or the finished product.  Link and I had a hard time keeping our fingers out of the batter this weekend. :)

1 15 oz. box yellow cake mix

1 8 oz. box cornbread muffin mix

2 eggs 

1/3 c. milk

1/2 c. water

2 T. vegetable oil

Mix wet ingredients, then add to dry ingredients.  Grease muffin tin and fill with batter.  Bake 350 degrees for 15-20 minutes.

Palmer's First Tooth!

Palmer sprouted her first tooth today...or should I say "teeth"...two little peepers on her bottom gums.  My toothless baby is gone!  Ben discovered them this morning over breakfast.  It explains a lot since she has been a little edgy over the last few days...and she woke up in the middle of the night last night which is not normal for her.  While feeling around, I also noticed that she has a couple more teeth on the bottom that are trying to come up but haven't quite made it yet.  Oh the joys of teething!

I had a hard time getting a picture of her new little teeth because they are just poking through her guns right now. So this pic will have to do!

Dude, where's my hair? (Treatment #5)

Treatment #5 has come and gone.  I can’t believe that we’re already almost halfway through this messy ordeal.  I should start by mentioning that I had my 2-month scan done this week and the results show that there aren’t any cancer cells in there anymore.  Sweet, eh?  It’s dead, hibernating, or otherwise taking vacation.  I hope it’s somewhere were the mosquito’s will give it malaria.  Those two diseases totally deserve each other.  This doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m 100% cured, but at the same time, a clear scan at this point is the first step in that direction.  Please, please….hold your applause to the end.  I’d like to thank the Academy, but most of all I’d like to thank my fans.  Without you, it just wouldn’t be possible for me to live this dream of Cancer and Chemotherapy.  Wait, in this instance, maybe that doesn’t work.  In all seriousness, I realize that for the most part I’m pretty lighthearted about all of this.  Please know that I certainly am not taking it lightly.  I truly believe that one of the biggest reasons I’m able to come through all of this is because of all of you guys.  The overwhelming support that we’ve received from friends and family (more on that amazing support in future blogs) has been amazing and inspiring.  Keep it up, peeps.  The scans may show that I’m clear, but we’ve still got 4 “F-bombing” months of this nastiness ahead of us.  We do, of course, thank God for my progress every single day.  Homeboy hasn’t forsaken me, he’s simply trying to teach me something.  Speaking of God, I’m so, so, so happy that the Broncos not only lost that game, but that they got pounded.  I’m a Tebow fan…seriously, I am.  I think the dude will be legit in time, and this isn’t a shot at him or his success.  This is a shot at all of those freaky T-boners out there.  Seriously, aside from the nerds at the Star Trek conventions, you people take the cake.  They were never destined to win the Super Bowl.  He hasn’t fallen out of grace with God.  The end isn’t near, so put your cup of Cool-Aid down and take a deep breath.  If God is actually reading the Sports Section (and let’s be honest, God would totally have the MSNBC App on his Ipad) I would imagine that He’s way more preoccupied with the seemingly epidemic child sexual abuse cases in major college programs.  Seriously, whoever commented that Sandusky may have been   teaching a troubled young boy how to shower should be washing cars right now (with Sandusky and Paterno working the tire sprayer right beside him).   I realize that the comment was taken out of context a bit, but seriously, what a nightmare.

I’ve been feeling well enough this last couple of weeks.  I still feel a little nauseous every time I think about chemical smells, and annoyingly enough I gag every time I pull into the parking lot at my Chemo treatment facility.  It’s mental.  The tingling in my toes and fingers is still ever-present, although it’s not quite as bad as it was last week.  I curse that jerk that designed baby clothes to have buttons instead of snaps or Velcro every time I have to put Linkan’s coat on.  I try to go for shirts with no buttons right now, as I just look really stupid trying to button anything.  My mouth never got real sensitive this time around.  I even went to the dentist and endured the normal poking and prodding that accompanies any good teeth cleaning.  And, thank goodness, the stains that I so endearingly spoke of in my last blog are long gone (for now).  I’m sure they’ll return after my next 2 cups of coffee.  On a side note, I now HATE flavored dental floss.  It makes me want to hurl.  And what’s the point anyways?  You’re not eating it, and it arguably should not even touching your taste buds.  If it is, stop flossing your tongue, that’s not what floss is for.  Why does it need to be minty?  The tired/nauseous feeling was pretty strong on this go around.  I was pretty wiped out from Thursday until Sunday night.  Once again, Kacy did an excellent job of catering to my every need and making life comfortable for me.  I still feel sorry for her having to deal with a “Jabba the Hut” sized cancer patient lying around for 4 days straight.  Linkan seems to enjoy lying on the bed with me watching TV.  Can’t wait till’ I get past this and I can actually get that kid outside to play!  Also, big shocker, my hair is gone!  Of course in true “Ben” style we made quite a production out of it.  I decided since I’ve had the very same haircut for the last 20 years that I’d take this opportunity to document my different styles.  Pick your favorite look (the pics are below).  I’m actually pretty relieved to have cut my hair.  I was about 2 weeks away from entering a Matisyahu look-alike contest.  I’d like to think that having my head shaved puts me among the ranks of Vin Diesel or Bruce Willis (Bruce Willis Circa 2007, not circa 1988), but really I think I’m more of a Howie Mandel look-alike.  Maybe a cross between him and Michael Stipe.  Neither of which are near as cool as Bruce or Vin.  Maybe a stretched out version of Mini-Me?  I dunno.  That’s okay, I guess.  Vin can’t act, and Bruce is just sort of old now and is most famous for dropping Hans Gruber off of the Nakatomi tower.  If you don’t understand what I’m talking about, go back to the early 1990’s, get a six pack of Zima and rent Die Hard.  Don’t worry, those dumb looking “skinny” jeans you’re wearing will be in style back then and it will impress the chicks that you can make phone calls on your calculator looking thingy.  Also, while you’re there, grab a Nintendo and a Mario Brother’s game that actually works for me.  No, don’t go to a garage sale for it…get it new.  I don’t want to take the cartridge out and blow on it, then rub it with a pencil, and click into the game slot 15 times to make is work (you mid-thirties folks know EXACTLY what I’m talking about).  With that said, now try and get the Mario Bros. song out of your head…Doot, Doot, Doot…Doot Doot Doot Doot..(pitch gets higher)Doot Doot Doot Doot…..Doot Doot, Doot (pitch lowers), Doot Doot Doot.  Yeah, you’re counting them, I know you are.  To get back to the point, this last 2 weeks was a little rough for a few days, but again I bounced back relatively quickly.  I’ve been able to keep up my running, and am still on pace to be able to run (and finish) my race in April.  I am however bowing out of the Ultra (50-miler) and will instead run in its shorter (and much more attractive) cousin, the marathon.  At least that’s the plan right now.   One cool side effect of having cancer is that you can say (and buy) almost anything you want.  You want to make fun of dumb people? Go ahead, after all, you’re dying and they want the elevator to go down, when that little arrow is clearly pointing up.  You want to go buy a paddle board (thank you REI dividends)?  Go ahead; you could be dead next year.  Yeah, that’s a bit dramatic (I’m not dying), but you get the point.  People just give you a ton of slack.  And, no…(rant alert!!) I mostly don’t make fun of dumb people.  BUT, when they holler at the top of their lungs to “HOLD THE ELEVATOR” prompting you to hold the door with your foot as that little buzzer goes off in your ear and then after stumbling in to the elevator they make it known to everyone (as if we didn’t already know) that “Hey, this elevator isn’t going down”, and THEN they hit the “door open” button so they can get off, delaying your departure even farther.  Trust me, when you feel like vomiting, this is totally annoying.  Speaking of annoying, how about the guy that cruises up next to you on the interstate as if he’s going to pass you quickly, but soon just slows down and sits right in your blind spot.  You speed up a bit, he speeds up a bit.  You slow down, same result.  I just don’t get it.  At the very least, make an effort to stay out of my blind spot.  I dunno, apparently another symptom of Chemo is that I get annoyed real easy these days.  I’m sure there’s a metaphor there somewhere, but I’ll l spare you.  I digress.

All rants aside, as I go through this treatment, I’m offered these daily opportunities to be thankful for my life (and for the days that I’m healthy enough to use the stairs and stay away from the elevator).  I was putting Linkan to bed the other night, and afterwards I just laid there in front of her door for a while listening to what goes on in there after I turn out the light.  Often times it sounds like a herd of elephants running around up there.  And, keep in mind that in my house it takes a lot of commotion to raise any eyebrows, as we live with 2 dogs that are roughly the size of goats.  There’s always someone or something crashing around like a blind man in a lamp shop.  This particular night, Linkan was content to lie in her bed and sing to herself.  The singing was interrupted by random shouts of “NO” or “YOU be quiet” or “Can I play with the Ipad?”.  It just made me laugh, and then I started to think about my life and how thankful I am.  I began to question our place on this Earth, and I just really felt thankful.  I mean, we get life for FREE.  Totally free.  Sure, our parents had to raise us and take care of us, and your Dad can talk about how he saved and worked his fingers to the bone for “you kids”, but you know what….his Dad did the same for him, and we’re doing the same for our kids so get over it.  We ALL got it for free!  It doesn’t skip a generation.  If you’re reading this, you’re right there with the rest of us.  And, as I work through this whole “life is free” thing, I realize the real responsibility that we have to live it well.  We all use excuses to explain why we don’t, or can’t, live life well.  You know the drill, “We can’t go on vacation cuz’ it’s just too much work with the kids and my job”, “I can’t talk openly with my friend or child about his or her addiction because they’ll just deny me”,  “I can’t take that job, or make that move because it’s risky and I might end up failing”, “I can’t possibly spend time with my kids because I don’t understand them, and they don’t like me”, “I can’t be expected to work that hard because nobody else does!”.  There are a thousand different excuses.  I want to make an attempt to knock these excuses on their ear.  Maybe I can modify my responses a bit.  “I HAVE to go on vacation because I have kids and a job”,  “I HAVE to talk with my friend about his or her issues because I love them”, “ I have to take this new job opportunity or make this move because I NEED to risk real failure”.  I feel like Kacy and I have always done a good job of seeking experiences and grasping life, but I certainly don’t think we’ve ever hit our breaking point.  I mean, we’ve been stretched, but I’ve never felt like we were breaking.  That’s a GOOD thing.  We’ve always had a really healthy balance, and that balance has helped us to grow into each other and has provided an incredible strength.  This is a bit of a brag fest on my wife, because beyond our shared Faith, SHE is the reason we grow and build strength in our marriage.  She’s my biggest supporter, and has always been the balance for me.  BUT, with my cancer (and subsequent victory, of course) I worry that we could lose that balance.  We’ll certainly be more likely to say, “Yeah, let’s take that risk and see where we end up.”  We’ve got to be careful to keep that balance and to stretch our Love and Faith in the right direction.  Direction is the key.  Be bold, and be daring, but make sure you’re going in the right direction.  We’ve got several things on our bucket list, and we need to be sure to maintain that balance in our journey.  I want my girls to think I’m the coolest Dad.  I realize that I’d better take my opportunity while I’ve got it, because as soon as they get to be 12 or 13, I’ve lost the battle.  Let’s face it; none of us are cool to 13 year old girls.  And, if we are, we’re kidding ourselves if we think that giving them what they want, or telling them what they want to hear is really “cool”.  Sigh, High School is going to suck.  I hope they get uglier.  A lot uglier.

I realize that my blogs seem to have a common theme.  I’m okay with that.  It’s my blog, and I’ll say what I want.  But, I do want you all to know that these blogs aren’t constructed to serve as an example of how to live your lives.  I don’t presume to have anything figured out.  This is simply what goes through my mind each and every day as I muck through this journey.  I think about this stuff because this is what I struggle with.  We’re all in this together, so if you want to talk, I plan on sitting by a campfire about every night this summer.  Bring beer and Scotch (good Scotch), and we can talk until the sun comes up.  I certainly don’t want to come off like Doogie Howser (pick him up if you’re actually able to time travel back to the early 90’s as mentioned above), Rev Run, or that stupid sitcom “Full House” (leave this one in the past where it belongs), where the drama music starts and the last 5 minutes I make some important diary entry or solution for this week’s problems.  This stuff just isn’t solved.  Life is way too complex for that.  Just like a Butterfly, we’re all in these different phases of life.  Some of us are stuck in a cocoon (actually called a Chrysalis), and some of us are doomed to be caterpillars for a long, long time.  Some of us are lucky enough to work through those stages, only to find that as a mature Butterfly we have to fly potentially thousands of miles to safety, only to die there.  I suppose, again, the jokes on us.  It’s all work.  It always will be, but I’d rather be flying than crawling around on the ground waiting for a bird to eat me, eh?  Stay tuned, I’m thinking that for blog #6 it will be our Hillbilly, Arkansas story.

Before

Scary Clown/Cancer Boy Look

Skinhead/Hells Angels Look

The Stash

After - Not bad!!

"Baldies"

Twins!

Lana, having a little too much fun while Ben tries not to gag...haha

Chemo Treatment #5
January 18, 2012

Hooray for negative PET scans!!

Radical Commitment

We are enjoying our last moments of good health tonight, knowing that the fun begins again tomorrow with round #5 of chemo for Ben.  We told a friend the other day that we live a life of extremes right now.  One week, stuff sucks...and then the next week, we're back to normal and enjoying our time together.  It's a really strange thing to walk through.  My emotions get confused, is all I'm saying! :)

So, anyway...this past weekend (good weekend - health wise), we were busy around the house trying to catch up and also trying to slowly put our house together.  We moved in at the end of July, had Palmer less than 2 weeks later and then Ben was diagnosed with cancer in November.  I'm definitely using all those things as excuses why it's 6 months later and it still looks like we just moved in.  It makes me feel better anyway. :)  In the middle of all that, Ben stopped everything to address me - seriously - about an observation and/or pattern he noticed in me....related to how I prioritize my time and energy.  He wasn't too far into the conversation when tears started rolling down my face....for two reasons.  One - because he was right and I felt convicted and remorseful.  (When I have those moments in my life, it makes me wonder why I needed someone to point out something that I already knew but wasn't willing to acknowledge???) Bottom line, I was caught in a cycle of wrong-thinking and allowing myself to get sucked along.  But more than anything, I was crying because I felt really loved.  Really, REALLY loved.  He approached me with genuine sincerity, gentleness and concern.  No judgement...just my best friend trying to help me be a better person - to live more intentionally.  There was no room...no desire for me to be defensive or angry.  As I was crying, I truly was thinking that in that moment, I was given a glimpse of my Heavenly Father's love for me.  Pure and unconditional...truth yet grace.  I read an article the next day that, I'm sure, was written just for me (ha).  The author said it better than I could have:

The reason that marriage is so painful and yet wonderful is because it is a reflection of the Gospel, which is painful and wonderful at once. The Gospel is—we are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared to believe, and at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus Christ than we ever dared hope. This is the only kind of relationship that will really transform us. Love without truth is sentimentality; it supports and affirms us but keeps us in denial about our flaws. Truth without love is harshness; it gives us information but in such a way that we cannot really hear it. God’s saving love in Christ, however, is marked by both radical truthfulness about who we are and yet also radical, unconditional commitment to us. The merciful commitment strengthens us to see the truth about ourselves and repent. The conviction and repentance moves us to cling to and rest in God’s mercy and grace.

We aren't perfect.  Our marriage isn't perfect.  We get some things right and some things wrong.  But sometimes, we live out our love for each other exactly as God intended...and it reminds me exactly why God created such a beautiful thing in the first place.  Our journey through cancer and treatment together has not been a walk in the park but I'm thankful for the character-building lessons that it presents.  I'm thankful for Ben - for his radical truthfulness and radical, unconditional commitment to me...allowing me to experience God's transforming love for me at a human level.

Circa 1999 - Nashville, TN

TREATMENT #4 – Happy New Year from Pheriche, Nepal!

So we kick off the new year in grand style…nausea pills in hand, bottle of Sprite by my side, and beer…lots and lots of beer.  Yeah, right.  Well, maybe a few beers, you know I had to sneak those in.  And, speaking of New Year, did you all get visited by that guy that comes by your office as you’re leaving for the holidays and says with a huge stupid grin, “See you next year!”  How about just see you next Tuesday.  That works for me….don’t try and get too clever.  Also, it’s 2012, and we’re all still alive.  Guess those Mayans were just a little short-sighted.  Or, maybe just like the rest of us, the guy that was tasked with drawing up the calendar went on vacation on December 23^rd and was off until January 3^rd.  He simply forgot to pick up where he left off and it fell through the cracks.  I actually don’t think the end officially comes until later in 2012.  Should be a hoot.  Get your bomb shelters stocked.  Anyways, all in all, it was an incredibly relaxed and fun holiday season for us.  For those of you that know me best, using the phrase “relaxed and fun” doesn’t come natural to me.  I’m learning….slowly….to wind down and enjoy the more mellow things in life.  Watching Linkan open presents, eating holiday treats (lots and lots of them), sitting in bed watching football, running a few easy miles with my buddy Khop, testing out a stand up paddle board on the lake in December.  Alright, that last one wasn’t quite mellow, but I had to throw it in there for good measure.  If you haven’t ever tried out a stand up paddle board, run out and try one….today.  Don’t wait till’ it warms up cuz’ who knows, you could wind up getting cancer before summer time!  Besides, it’s not THAT cold.  You can come borrow mine!

I’ve decided to give you all a break today.  No significant rants on politics, sexual preference, religion, or faith…..keeping in mind that religion and faith have absolutely nothing to do with each other.  Sigh….that’s how it starts…..I digress.  As I write this paragraph I realize that I might be lying…it doesn’t take much to set me off.  Just keep reading and shut your freakin’ yapper. 

I’ve been feeling well enough after this last round.  We definitely knocked the dook out of cancer this round.  I was tired and felt nauseous, but I got to live life pretty normally.  I avoided shaving my head for yet another week.  And no, it’s not turning into an ugly comb-over, so save the jokes.  Mouth pain has been non-existent for this round.  That is super cool, but as I scan my mouth for sores I will say that I’m quite disappointed with how my teeth have stained since my last dentist appointment  I switched to a sonicare almost a year ago, I floss every day, but still I get stains.  This is crap.  I can drink 2 cups of coffee and have stains on my teeth, but I can painstakingly stain my back deck and it looks like I haven’t touched it after only one month in the weather.  They should come up with some sort of coffee additive to deck stain to deal with this.  Again, I digress.  I’d say the only lasting impacts have been numbness and tingling in my fingers and toes, and some serious aversions to anything that smells like a chemical or plastic.  The numbness doesn’t bother me all that much.  I’m more sensitive to it (at least they say) because I’ve frostbitten my fingers and toes before.   The gag reflex from the plastic and chemical smell is really a pain in the neck.  The very hand sanitizer that is keeping me healthy makes me want to throw up in my hat.  Seriously, what a quandary.  I stand before the automatic hand sanitizer dispenser with alleged deadly bacteria on my hands, and with the sandwich I ate 30 minutes earlier climbing the water spout.  To sanitize, or not to sanitize, that is the question.  Forget Shakespeare, that S.O.B. was too busy writing Sonnets that make the majority of men look like philistines to be of much value to me right now.  I did, however, have the privilege of being stuck in slow traffic behind a large diesel pick-up for 30 minutes the other day.  Add the smell of diesel exhaust to the list of horrible things that make me want to hurl.  And, while I’m at it (yes, this will be a bunny trail) what the crap is up with those guys that lift their big diesel pick-ups as if they’re going to enter them in a monster truck competition?  Totally ridiculous.  I realize that having some extra ground clearance can be nice when you’re drunk and running over parked cars and pedestrians, but let’s get real.  You can’t hitch a trailer to the truck without a drop hitch, you can’t go through the McDonald’s drive thru because your truck is so tall (and I know you love McRibs), you can’t even get into that thing without a step ladder.  Okay, maybe it looks tough, but if I’m not intimidated by your horribly offensive and surprisingly anatomically correct “truck nuts” along with your “Fear Me” sticker in the back window, the lift kit won’t push me over the edge.  I just realized that I’m breaking my rules from last week by ranting on this.  Shame on me.  If you didn’t read last week’s blog, essentially I made an oath to treat people better.  I messed that up already, I suppose.  If you want to lift your truck, go ahead.  Just be aware that it makes it hard for you to see your blind spot, so be careful when you merge because there might be some guy in a mini cooper down there somewhere jamming out to the Jonas Brothers.

As previously stated, instead of a blog filled with deep moral insight, this week I’ll entertain you (at least I hope) with a story, that as of late, is always on my mind.  Kacy and I took a trip to Everest Base Camp a few years ago with our great friend Gary Scott.  A side note, Gary is more than just a good friend.  I consider him to be a mentor on many different levels.  I would willingly put my life in his hands (and actually have a few times) and more importantly I’d trust him with the lives of my family.  I say this to at least put this story into context, and for you to remember that I was on this trip with a great guide and we had an awesome time.  This story is just part of our awesome Nepal experience.  Also, if you have the means go on a trip with Gary, you’ll have a blast.  At the very least, check out his stuff at http://www.rightpathadventures.com/.

Alright, so on with the story, welcome to Pheriche – Elevation 14,300’.  After 6 days of trekking steadily uphill from a mountain airstrip in Lukla at 9000’ (go to YouTube and search for “Lukla Air Strip Landing”, you won’t be disappointed) we arrive in the village of Pheriche in the Khumbu region of Nepal.  Pheriche is a great little village that is a major stopping point for many Everest expeditions.  It’s got a little airstrip there for helicopter traffic and the infamous Himalayan Rescue Association.  Enough of the trivia, if you want to know more…google it.  Anyways, upon arriving a few of us decided to take a quick hike up a nearby peak.  Now, keep in mind that for our group (Jesse, Patrick, Gary, and I) we’re not only fit, but we’re acclimated well from hiking slowly over the last few days and an easy hike for us includes about 2000’ of elevation gain in less than 2 hours.  In the range of 14,000 – 16,000 feet, that’s not bad.  However, insert the male ego, and the fact that I left about 45 minutes after the other guys, I took it as my personal challenge to catch up…which I did eventually as they were taking a break, but not without a significant cost (more on that later).  I felt really well on the down climb, and after an hour or so of hanging out in our lodge (more description on what a “lodge” really is in a moment) we had dinner.  A fantastic dinner of “Momo’s” to be more specific.  Up until this point, I had a significant love affair with Nepali food, especially Momo’s.  This is where the story heads South.  For those of you with weak stomachs, skip the rest of this story.  We had opted to stay in a lodge this particular night, which turned out to be a very, very good thing.  Lodges in the Khumbu vary in their accommodations, but for the most part, at this altitude, they are thinly insulated buildings (think wood with Styrofoam stapled to the inside) that are furnished with a 3-inch foam pad on a wooden bed, and a chair if you’re lucky.  Remember, anything that makes it up to this elevation is probably carried in by people or yaks, as helicopter drops are extremely expensive.  Next, the lodge’s community bathroom is a short 10 steps down the hall and consists of a floor-mounted bed pan of sorts and a barrel of water to wash down your….uh, you know, business.  To make the experience even better, you don’t drop toilet paper down the hole, you put it in a bucket next to the “toilet”.  Trust me, after 2 days you’ve seen more of other people’s crap than your own.  A little tip, don’t look down the hole.  Curiosity will eventually get the better of you, and you’ll look….everybody looks.  Good luck getting that image out of your head.  All this said, keep in mind that water doesn’t flow freely at 14’000’.  People haul it to the village either by bucket or by chunk (yes, it’s frozen up there).  So, you don’t mop floors and laundry service is expensive and time consuming.  You’re in the Khumbu, get over it!  Don’t get me wrong, lodges can be a luxury at 14,000’, and boy am I glad we had such a luxury.  I woke up at 3am with a headache and extreme nausea.  My first thought was to hydrate, which you have to do religiously at this elevation…especially after a tough hike.  I take a drink, and that’s the catalyst.  It was as if my stomach was just daring me to take a sip, like an ambush.  Well, as soon as that drink hit my stomach it’s all over.  Of course, there’s no trash can, no bucket.  All I could find was a gallon-sized zip lock bag in my pack.  Well, it’s better than nothing.  After an hour or so, the zip-lock was full.  To empty it, I stumble down the hallway to the bathroom in my sleeping pants and down booties.  Oh yeah, did I mention that it was cold?  Like, really cold.  Cold enough to freeze vomit in a zip lock bag within an hour kind of cold.  That’s right, a great little pudding pop that turned out to be.  So, I empty out my zip lock and go to “flush” it down.  Only one problem, the barrel of water is frozen solid.  No wash down for me.  Felt pretty bad for the next guy.  He had to look at a frozen chunk of vomit while taking a pee.  Well, back to our room for a little rest.  After laying down for another 30 mins, the party continues.  The interesting thing was that I had run out of anything in my stomach to offer up to the Zip Lock baggie.  So, with nothing else to offer, I started to vomit blood.  Yep, I said it….blood.  This whole time Kacy had been putting up with my vomiting and whimpering, but she got a little alarmed when I leaned over and told her that I was vomiting blood.  But, like any hardened adventure traveler she took it in stride and coaxed me back to sleep.  I don’t remember much else after this.  I was exhausted, dehydrated, really cold, and totally eradicated of any bodily contents.  I do remember a couple more frozen trips to the bathroom, but I’ve been trying my best to repress those particular memories.  I woke up around 6 or 7am to a frozen bag of bloody vomit (I told you to stop reading) and Kacy standing over me with a cup of tea.  I literally spent the next 2 days in bed bundled up in sleeping bags making hourly visits to the frozen bathroom.  After those two days, I brushed my teeth, shaved my face with a bowl of hot water, and got on with our trek.  I still don’t know whether it was exhaustion, a stomach bug, or some combination of the two.  Also, a cool little event as we were leaving, a guy had to be airlifted out for a burst appendix.  Even something as simple as that can be your ticket home.  As is life in the Khumbu.  Now, this may sound like an uncomfortable, scary, and somewhat painful story, but think of the lessons it helped teach me.  More importantly think about how those lessons are coming in handy right now as I sit here with a headache, an upset stomach, hair falling out, treatment port in my chest, and poison coursing through my veins.  At least I get to do it in a warm house, with warm water, and real flushing toilets.  Shoot, I even have Cable and Netflix in this beeotch.  I love this story, and as I read through it, it’s probably not near as exciting or interesting as I think it is.  But, these last few weeks I haven’t been able to get it out of my head….for obvious reasons.  But, I’m so thankful for the experience that it gave me.  I challenge you all to go out there and make yourself uncomfortable.  Get out of your comfort zones because sooner or later, you’ll find that life forces you out into the great wide open (I hate Tom Petty) to fend for yourself.  Trust me, you’ll be better equipped if you teach yourself to relish in the suffering.  We’ve all got our crosses to bear in that regard.  You may not have cancer, but I’m sure there’s something that you’re suffering through right now that’s likely even worse.  My advice; don’t do it alone, and if you can smile through the tough stuff, the good days are even more precious.

After typing that story, I realize that I could probably share a bunch of funny stories with you.  How bout’ you decide what the next story will be about.  Your choices: 

      -Our car getting broken into and us being rendered helpless after a 4 day backpacking trip in Hillbilly, Arkansas (this has got to be the most interesting story)

      -Kacy, Boss, and I driving from roughly sea level to the mountains of Colorado in the middle of winter to climb Mount Evans (a 14,000 foot mountain in Colorado), during which I got frostbite and a storm rolls in on us.

      -A recent winter climbing trip to Humboldt Peak that taught me yet again several more important life lessons.

You guys make the call.  Thanks for reading, and go make your weekend count for something!

(PS-Kacy does the pictures and captions)

Pheriche Hangover 

(complete with the back of Pemba's head - notice the beer in his hand...jerk)

Back on top!

 Chemo Treament #4

January 4, 2012

Ben trying not to gag while Lana turns to me and says, "He's so dramatic" haha

5 Months Old

Today marks Palmer Tate's 5th month in the world. We have affectionately started referring to her as our little bowling ball. You'll understand once you scroll down and see her pictures! This is the only time in one's life that it's cute and socially acceptable to be fat. Hehe - go for it girl. ;) Palmer is an easy baby, what can I say? She is a constant source of joy in our household. Always smiling and giggling. It is a rare occasion when she is fussy. During this past month, she rolled from her belly to her back for the first time and has been perfecting her new skill ever since. She started eating solid food for the first time this week - sweet potatoes. We could have started solid food WEEKS earlier, as she has been showing great interest in real food for awhile now...but I've been dragging my feet because we have been so busy during the holidays. To say that she has been excited about eating real food would be an understatement...giddy is probably more fitting. She gobbles it up. It's so wierd to us, since Linkan didn't take to baby food until she was 6-7 months...and even when she did finally, it wasn't anything special for her. So, this is an exciting new experience for us...a baby that loves food! Palmer is still sleeping through the night and starting to go for longer stretches now...usually 7 pm to 6 am. This mama ain't complaining. I should also note that today marks her daddy's 4th chemo treatment. Oh, the stories we will have to tell her about her first year of life. :) God is good and He has richly blessed us with this sweet little life.

Sporting her "Postlethwait University" shirt that Grams and Gramps got for her

I will eat you, Monkey!

Checking out the goods