Vivek Murthy, former US Surgeon General, says loneliness decreases our lifespan as much as if we smoked 15 cigarettes a day. It can be more harmful than obesity. “Loneliness,” Murthy said in a Forbes interview, “is also associated with a greater risk of cardiovascular disease, dementia, depression, and anxiety.” A study by The Economist magazine and the Kaiser Family Foundation found that 9% of adults in Japan, 22% in America and 23% in Britain always or often feel lonely, or lack companionship, or else feel left out or isolated. I recently volunteered for Meals on Wheels, delivering hot meals to elderly people in our local community. So many of the people I saw on my routes were alone. I was likely the only human contact they would have all day (terribly sorry about that; hopefully you had someone better the next day). Some of them talked my ear off as though they had all these words bottled up and were just waiting for someone to listen.
In addition to the elderly, those who are disabled often suffer from this epidemic of loneliness. According to a British advocacy group, half of the UK’s disabled are lonely. I haven’t seen exact figures for the US, but I imagine they are similar. If it weren’t for my wife and daughter, I’m certain I could count myself as socially isolated. I’m an introvert and still find it uncomfortable to eat in public. I’m also having a harder time making myself understood, especially in loud spaces. In August, I was interviewed for a news story about Real Food Blends. I couldn’t figure out how to insert the video into the blog, but you can watch it from any Scripps station website, like Denver’s ABC affiliate. You’ll notice that they decided to subtitle me. My lips and tongue don’t have the dexterity to enunciate words. Also, I can’t get through a full sentence without needing to take a breath.
Another thing that makes it hard for me to be out in public is my gastroparesis. With gastroparesis, I have to lie down to vent my tube almost hourly when I’m out and this can be awkward, especially if I’m at a concert or sporting event. I’m much more averse to going out now. I look at it like exercise; something I have to regularly suffer through because it’s good for my health. Actually, I’m luckier than a lot of disabled people out there. Having a child forces me to go out in public because I have to be there for my daughter’s soccer, volleyball, basketball, and softball games (watching softball sucks). And if Betsy wasn’t always encouraging me to take part in the community, I’m sure I’d be sitting on the couch reading all the time. I am fortunate to be surrounded by family (sometimes not so fortunate, depending on what the in-laws are doing), and I’m lucky to be ambulatory. There are so many lonely disabled people out there. I couldn’t imagine how difficult it is to date with a feeding tube. There are tubies who are hooked up to a pump for hours at a time. Tubies who can’t talk at all; who can’t express how it is to get food into our bodies. If you’re living alone with a feeding tube, who will be there if you have a clog? Who can help you change your tube? Who can take you to the doctor? There is no one to force you to go out in public, to make you connect with your community, and this only exacerbates your health problems.
There is a Simpson's clip for every occasion
I traveled to Winston Salem, NC, to a conference for work last week. I was with one of my co-workers, and I didn’t have any health issues or problems with my tube during the trip. I brought some blended meals for my breakfasts and Real Food Blends for the rest of my meals. This was good because I didn’t need to worry about going out with my blender by myself. Yet I could see that if I lived by myself, this could all too easily become my life. No reason to go out in public, so I just stay in every day for fear of tube feeding in public or not being understood.
Add caption
Last year, Britain actually created the world’s first Minister for Loneliness to address the issue. At the time, there were a few jokes made about the position:
But good on the UK for confronting the scourge of social isolation. More communities in the US are starting to try different methods like Miami-based Papa, which offers “Grandkids on Demand,” where you sign up to have college-aged kids come over for companionship and help with general tasks. But we could be doing so much more than these piece-meal approaches. If you have the means, I humbly beseech you to please get in touch with your neighbors. Not the ones who are out every day. Please don’t overlook the elderly, the disabled, the immigrants in your community who for one reason or another have minimal human contact.
And if you’re by yourself reading this, I can’t tell you it’s going to be ok because sometimes it’s not. I can’t tell you tomorrow will be better than today was. But you are not alone. Please reach out. The world isn’t as cold and uncaring as you think. For one thing, we have mankind’s greatest achievement: the dog.
Apollo scored 13/10 on @dog_rates
Indy and Luna scored 13/10 on @dog_rates
Bassie scored 14/10 on @dog_rates
Duke scored 13/10 on @dog_rates
Ouyu and Miyu scored 14/10 on @dog_rates
Maggie was shot 17 times and had her ear cut off before she was rescued. Now she’s a @dog_rates 15/10
Last week, I visited my friend, Dave, in Iowa. I don’t want to bring up bad blood or state rivalries here but while Iowans sing the praises of their fine state, my wife—who grew up in Minnesota—insists that IOWA stands for Idiots Out Wandering Around. Again, I’m not trying to instigate conflict. I don’t want my blog blamed for the future war that erupts between these two mid-western states. All I’m saying is, Iowa, if you’re reading this, the people of Minnesota all think you’re a bunch of morons.
Some of the highlights from my relationship with Dave: We’ve known each other for over 25 years. We were college roommates. We got yelled at quite a bit by upperclassmen. We marched a lot of tours together. I’ve become close with Dave’s family and high school friends in Denver over the years. Dave is the kind of friend you don’t lose touch with as years go by, no matter how much distance there is between you. Dave was the best man at my wedding. When I got cancer, Dave shaved his head and flew out to be with me during my chemo treatments. When I had a 13 hour surgery on my jaw, Dave spent the day keeping Betsy company, even though he was in the middle of medical school. Dave is the guy who will drop everything to help out, no matter how much he might be going through personally.
May 27, 1998. Who'd have guessed that one of these gentlemen would make positive contributions to society?
So now Dave is a doctor at a hospital in Cedar Rapids. Despite what his patients and colleagues told me (and the many malpractice lawsuits), I think he’s a very good doctor. Did that sound bad? What I mean is, if you happen to be in the St. Luke's emergency room in Cedar Rapids, you could do a lot worse than Dr. Baumgartner. Probably. I mean, you're not over at the Mercy ER, right? His wife, Claire, works in palliative care at the same hospital. She is an excellent doctor and sometimes she’s not embarrassed to be seen with her husband. I told Dave I’m doing some part time work for a company that is trying to improve social determinants of health (like food insecurity and social isolation) in East Tennessee. I visited Dave and Claire to see how they deal with social determinants at their hospital.
I know my current job—Truck2Table and Synergasia Health Tech—doesn’t directly affect the tube feeding community, but I think it’s closely related. I have a strong belief that all tubies deserve to have real food, not canned formula. In the same way, I think people in poverty or those who live in food deserts deserve healthy food, not fast food meals or whatever they find at the Dollar store. These are not dynamic ideas and they could save our medical system billions of dollars in health costs. People across the country are recognizing this, even the idiots—I mean the fine people—of Iowa.
Speaking of healthy food, check out the massive cookie the Big Grove Brewery in Iowa City gave Betsy for free!
It's always nice when we travel somewhere to stay at a friend's house, rather than a hotel room. So much easier use their kitchen and clean the blender after meals, as opposed to blending my meal in a cramped hotel room. Plus, we didn't destroy their house too much, so I think they won't mind if we visit again. It was also nice to have help when we opened the suitcase that I carry my Vitamixer and Real Food Blend meals in and discovered that one of my RFB bags had popped and spilled all over the inside of the bag. This has never happened before in all the years I've traveled so of course it was a salmon meal that spilled everywhere. Betsy was ready to give up and go out to buy a new bag, but Dave got it all cleaned out for us.
We've lost some hair and an arm, but otherwise we look the same
Iowa City, where Dave and Claire live, is a really cool college town. We went out to eat at One Twenty Six, a very nice restaurant at the downtown pedestrian mall. I had lamb chops with Brussel sprouts and they blended my meal perfectly. Betsy had steak and said it "melted in her mouth."
Dave and I were able to play 9 holes of golf before our flight home, so I got to try out my adaptive glove for one-armed golfers. It actually worked out pretty well, and I plan to join the PGA tour soon.
I’m joking. The glove was awesome but I remain a horrible golfer and an outstanding golf cart driver.
Look at that perfect form!!
The flight home from Iowa was pretty hectic. We had a connection in Charlotte, but our plane couldn’t immediately land because of storms. Then, the flight home got delayed and Betsy and I ended up getting bumped off the flight because it was overbooked (thanks, American). We did get free $500 vouchers for future flights so it wasn’t all bad but they were telling us we might not get a flight out of Charlotte until the next night. I only had two Real Food Blends left so the Vitamixer would have to sustain me.
Fortunately, we were lucky enough to get standby seats on the last flight out of Charlotte. Instead of getting back to Knoxville at 7:00 PM, we arrived home at 11:30, but at least we made it home.
I know I've been horrible about blogging. I have gastroparesis (that will have to be a whole other blog post) and it's really taken a toll on my motivation for writing. I will try to be better about it in the future!
Freshman year at the Air Force Academy is a little rough. You get there in June and go through six weeks of basic training. You get yelled at a lot, run around in combat boots, do an absurd amount of push-ups, pull-ups, and sit-ups and don't get me started on the marching. Marching drills, marching to meals, marching before exercising, marching after exercising, marching to inspections, marching to the bathroom, marching in the bathroom, marching from the bathroom, marching to bed, marching to more marching drills. You're in the Air Force for Christ's sake! When will you ever be expected to march in the Air Force? This isn't the Army. It's not the Marines. FOR THE LOVE OF--
Sorry, went off on a tangent. So basic training sucked. Then the school year started and on top of going to classes like Calculus 3 and military history, we got yelled at a lot, ran around in combat boots, did an absurd amount of push-ups, pull-ups and sit-ups and a RIDICULOUS amount of marching.
I spent that whole year with the same people. Just like you can't pick your family, you can't pick your squad mates. There are 40 squadrons at the Academy and each squadron has about 25 freshmen. Before basic training starts, you're randomly placed into a squadron and these are the people who will see you at your absolute worst. They are the ones who have to suffer because you didn't shine your boots just right. They have to do push-ups because you failed your inspection. They are there to cheer you on when you don't think you can run any farther. We started basic training with 33 freshmen in 7th squadron. By the end of the year, that number had been winnowed down to 24. We started out as a random group of strangers and ended up like a family. Sometimes, you really can't stand your family, but at the same time, you'd do anything for them. People like Dave, Nate, Angela, Trent, Rob, Beth, Chris, Matt, Jason, Erynn, Cory, Floyd...and Nick.
Like most of the people in my new family, Nick and I didn't have a lot in common. He was the son of school teachers from a tiny town in western Kansas. I was a person who almost fell asleep driving through western Kansas. Nick walked on to the Academy's JV baseball team as a pitcher. I begged my little league baseball coach to let me play pitcher so he did it for part of one inning, until enough of the other team had either hit home runs off me or got hit by my wild throws. Nick was an excellent student. He aced every class he took. I was...a student. So normally Nick and I would never have crossed paths. But freshman year, you really have no choice other than to spend time with your squad mates. You can't go off base (actually you can't go outside the cadet area) except in rare instances--even on the weekends. So when you're not doing homework, playing intramurals, getting yelled at, running in combat boots, making your room and uniform look immaculate, memorizing obscure military quotes, and don't forget the marching(!), you're just hanging out together.
One thing I always loved doing was hiking and the Air Force Academy has plenty of opportunities for that. My favorite trail at the Academy was the one up Eagle's Peak.
Eagle's Peak rises above the Cadet Chapel
The trail to climb Eagle's Peak was really easy to get to from the dorms. Just head west from the Academy Visitor's Center, cross a road and you've started up the mountain. It was a strenuous hike, but not overly so and the view from the top was spectacular.
View of USAFA from the top of Eagle's Peak
I climbed that mountain more times than I could say. I knew every inch of that trail and eventually you reach a point where climbing Eagle's Peak doesn't seem like much of a challenge. Late in our freshman year, Nick and I reached that point. Normally, you climb up Eagle's Peak by circling around the front and coming up from the back side. This is so you avoid the sheer cliff face on the east side of the mountain.
That cliff really looks doable, right?
By this point in my cadet career, I'd gone through basic training, I'd been yelled at, run around in combat boots, done a lot of push-ups, pull-ups, and sit-ups, and marched until I was marching in my sleep. I don't want to speak for Nick here but I was sort of a badass. Plus I was 19 and as everyone knows, all 19 year-olds are indestructible ninja assassins. Why should I be held back by a measly cliff? So, one Saturday, Nick and I decided to tackle the front of Eagle's Peak.
Our journey started off swimmingly. It seemed much faster going straight up. Why didn't everyone climb this way? We reached the base of the cliff in positive spirits. Sure, the cliff appeared quite a bit taller and steeper than it looked from the ground. Also there was an ominous dark cloud blowing in from the west, but did I mention that we were indestructible ninja assassins? Undaunted, Nick and I started to climb. The lower portion of the cliff offers enough hand and foot holds to pull yourself up, as long as you're not averse to risk and you avoid looking down. Then, it gets a little trickier. Right about the time when the sky got darker and thunder rumbled around us, I began to reassess my destructibility.
I didn't want to be the one to wuss out and crawl back home, and Nick didn't seem to be slowing down so we continued our slow progress up the cliff. Right around the halfway point, the wind is picking up, thunder is getting closer, and I'm definitely seeing headlines in the Colorado Springs Gazette like, "Idiotic Cadets Struck by Lightning Before Fall From Cliff," or "Idiotic Cadets Fall From Cliff Before Being Struck by Lightning," or even "Idiotic Cadets Manage to Get Struck by Lightning During Fall From Cliff." Any way you put it, I was starting to feel like an idiot. Honestly, I think Nick could've made it up in good weather. Unfortunately, we got to a point where he could reach the next handhold but I was too short, so he was dangling his leg down so I could grab onto it. Then, we started to feel rain. Or maybe it was my tears. Probably a bit of both. Nick made the decision to turn around because his wingman was blubbering like a toddler.
Dejected, we made our way back to the dorms in the rain. I think we may have taken different lessons from our attempt at the rock face of Eagle's Peak. I learned that climbing mountains is a little trickier than climbing trees. Also I'm rather short. And lightning storms in Colorado are scary. And I may not be the best at high pressure situations. And I'm a little man-baby.
Nick just kept on taking those risks.
After our second year at the Academy, everyone switched squadrons. Nick and I saw each other in the halls during class, but rarely spoke. He had his friends and I had mine. I was big into partying on the weekends and probably didn't put as much effort into my school work as I should have. I graduated with a 3.0, so not too bad but definitely not in the top of our class. From the Academy, I had a brief career in the Air Force before I was forced out by cancer.
Nick's trajectory after graduation could not have been more different. He majored in Aerospace Engineering, graduated near the top of our class, and got a fellowship to MIT. From there, Nick became a flight test pilot and kept on taking risks with his sights set on being an astronaut. In 2013, his dream came true and he was one of eight selected for the program. He was the first from his class to be chosen to go to the International Space Station. In fact, he was part of the Soyuz mission that launched last Thursday.
I haven't spoken to the guy in more than 20 years. But when Col. Nick Hague's rocket booster failed a couple minutes into his flight to the International Space Station Thursday morning, I was watching. I was reminded of that day on the rock face of Eagle's Peak, and I was pretty confident Nick would come out of it with the same calm confidence he displayed that day (https://www.cbsnews.com/amp/news/soyuz-rocket-launch-abort-mission-iss-nasa-astronaut-russians-ballistic-descent/).
Yep, I'm ready to move to Sweden. I've been told that the weather is not always perfect, like it was when we were there. Also, daylight doesn't always last for 18 hours at that latitude. Plus, mosquitoes might form dark, apocalyptic clouds away from the coast of Sweden--like we see in Minnesota and large swaths of Alaska. But I'm undaunted. Sweden is the place for me. I'm a Swede. Change my name toBjörnLiebensson. We had such a magical week there that I struggle to put it into words. So, let me flounder along chronologically.
We did make a stop in New York on our way to Europe because we wanted to break up the trip and see the Statue of Liberty. For the past few months, I've had some issues with needing to vent my tube three or four times a day. Venting is something that a lot of small children with tubes have to do. It's a way of eliminating bloating in the stomach by lying back, opening the tube and just letting the pent up air escape. In the 10 years I've had a tube, I've never had to do this, and we still can't figure out why things are different now. It made my trip extremely awkward at times, like when I had to lie down in the grass at the base of the Statue of Liberty so I could vent:
Isn't there a joke here about the huddled masses in my stomach yearning to breathe free?
Definitely got a lot of stares from people looking at the guy with the volcano spurting out of his belly, but I certainly wasn't the freakiest looking thing in Manhattan. Have you walked around Times Square?
We have reached peak photobomb
We stayed in the garment district in Manhattan at the Kimpton Hotel on the advice of a friend (Thanks Cat!). Betsy and Grace are huge fans of the fashion show Project Runway, so we went to Mood to look at every type of fabric you could imagine and meet their most famous employee, Swatch.
We got to touch him!!!!
While the girls shopped, I watched England play Croatia on their TV with a bunch of other dudes. Julio ruined the game for all of us when he said Croatia was going to score in overtime minutes before it happened on TV because he was getting live results on his phone while the TV broadcast had a delay. So, what could be more 'New York' than hearing a bunch of people of all races and sexual orientations yell, "Fuck You, Julio!!" then riding an elevator down to 37th street with Swatch so he could go potty?
Way cooler to get your picture with this girl than the bull in front of her
After our brief stop in New York, it was time to Uber to Newark Airport so we could catch an 11:30 PM flight to Copenhagen.
Betsy was asleep already
Real Food Blends were a huge source of food for me throughout my time away from home. I packed some along in my suitcase and shipped more to our host family. I ended up having too many meals, but I'd much rather have too many than too few. On the plane, I preferred to eat salmon meals because those have the smoothest consistency.
Happy times before we got salmon on Betsy's shirt
Of course, part of being a tubie is that accidents always happen, usually at the worst possible time.
Steady...Steady....
In this case, I left the valve that opens my tube in the 'closed' position and the very aromatic Salmon, Oats, and Squash meal spurted out onto Betsy's shirt. This was early into an 8-hour flight, so Betsy had to suffer with a smelly, damp shirt in a cramped seat next to her smelly husband and her daughter's smelly feet. This is the price all caregivers must make. I wanted to take another picture to capture this tragedy, but wisely deduced that this would lead to Betsy dumping the rest of my meal over my head.
So, yeah, salmon meals are the easiest to eat, just don't make any spills.
After the hurried chaos of New York, Copenhagen was this neat, orderly city where everyone was biking, or out on the water, or just hanging out with some beers at a park (it's ridiculously expensive to drink in restaurants so people usually go to the liquor store and drink outside). We met up with another family from our team and watched the sunset from a canal right outside our hotel.
Everybody confuses Grace with Nathalie during games, even their parents
The next day was a whole lot of walking. One of the first things we did was climb the tower at the Church of our Savior, which was completed in 1752.
Definitely wasn't thinking about '1752' when I was climbing
400 steps to the top, with the last 150 outside. Stunning views of the city; really one of those things you have to see if you visit the city. Just not if you're especially afraid of heights.
My European Vitamix was waiting for me in Sweden, so I was still eating six Real Food Blends a day. Very convenient to have, but I was jealous of all the good food everyone else got to try. I did manage to drink a local hard cider with my lunch at a large open air dining area outside Nyhavn canal.
That's the good stuff
Of course, no trip to Copenhagen is complete until you've gotten a picture with the Little Mermaid Statue. I guess I'd read and heard so much about how tiny the statue is that when I was confronted with it, I thought she was pretty big.
HUGE!!!
Another opportunity I had to eat something other than Real Food Blends was when I got a smoothie at Coffee Industry Sweden. In the same way southern towns like Knoxville have a church on every corner, Copenhagen seemed to have a coffee shop on every corner. They even had these mobile coffee carts on bikes because the only thing Danish people are crazy about more than coffee is biking. One of the many coffee franchises in Copenhagen--other than Starbucks--was Coffee Industry Sweden, and they blended up a mango smoothie especially for my tube.
Gave me just enough energy to crawl back to the hotel room after our eight mile walk
One of the many reasons I love Europe is that you can hop on a train and travel anywhere. We took a beautiful 3-hour train ride from Copenhagen, across theÖresund (the strait separating Denmark from Sweden), and up the coast to Varberg.
They're smiling because we filled them up on crepes and Danish pastries
Like I said before, the weather on our trip was absolutely perfect (with the exception of one hellish lightning storm which I will discuss later). Temperatures in the 70s during the day, and cooling off into the mid-50s at night. I think this really painted Sweden in the best possible light for me because temperatures back home in Knoxville were hovering around 150 degrees with 500 percent humidity (only a slight exaggeration). Varberg, Sweden is this picturesque coastal town with zero crime and bike paths connecting everything. While the Swedish people are not noted for their overt friendliness to strangers out in public, local cats made up for this by greeting me wherever I went.
Swedish cats eat nothing but pickled herring
I only included that picture because when we told our coach's wife (who is Swedish) about it, she looked at me like I'm an idiot and said, "We have cats in America." Yes, there are cats in the U.S. but walking outside in this perfectly orderly country in beautiful weather, with birds singing merrily from the trees and animals coming up to nuzzle at my leg, I felt like I was in a Disney movie. Except both my parents are alive so...happier than a Disney movie? I know winters are dark and cold and rain is far more common than sunshine, but cats were greeting me everywhere!
While we were in Sweden, we often found time to ride bikes or take the bus down to the beach to see the sunset. Since that didn't happen until 9:30PM and we usually stayed out much later drinking with our host families and friends we usually stayed up until past midnight.
Wine at sunset on the North Sea!!
Speaking of host families, we definitely had the best one, by far. Since their two girls (Age 7 months and 3 years) both slept in their parents' bed, they let us use the entire second floor of their house!!! They had an awesome French bulldog who loved to snore and fart in Grace's bed at night. Plus we watched a ton of episodes of Paw Patrol and Dora the Explorer in Swedish and Ellen's (the 3 year-old) favorite movie, Frozen, which is way better in Swedish and extremely amusing to see in Finnish, Norwegian, and Danish. Seriously, they really gave us a home away from home and we were so fortunate to have them.
They called Charlie "Little Pig" in Swedish (forgot the words?) because of how much he snorts and farts
I mentioned in a past blog that my sister, who has a stinky butt, shipped her European Vitamix blender to Sweden so I could use it. It was SO helpful to have that blender there!!! Thank you, Ginger!!! Please don't beat me up next month for constantly saying you have a stinky butt!! I didn't need to worry about packing my own blender, or the heavy 3,000Watt converter I would need to use it in the European 220Volt outlets. I could set up in our host family's kitchen and blend my meals every day. The only downside was that our poor host family had to contend with the noisy blender. By the end of our time there, their 7 month-old daughter still hadn't said her first word, but she was making noises mimicking the sound of the Vitamix. So, you're welcome for that. Sara and Andreas, if you'd like, we can record the sound of my blender and send it as a Christmas gift and maybe it will help put the girls to sleep at night.
And now Grace wants a French Bulldog; preferably if he farts and snorts
And Betsy wants a baby; preferably a perfect baby like Agnus
Despite my firm belief that the world revolves around me, this trip was really about Grace and her soccer team in the Gothia Cup. The night we arrived, we got in the soccer spirit by going into town and watching the World Cup final on a big screen with a lot of the locals, including many Croatians who immigrated to Sweden in the 90s because of the Balkan War. They were a bit disappointed because of the final score of the game, but I think they got over it by drinking copious amounts of alcohol.
Here we are during the end of the second half
The next day, the girls took a 20 minute train ride up to their first game. They played a Swedish team who were supposedly the same age, but they were a head taller than our girls, so I think they eat differently in Sweden or something. The game was closer than I thought it would be, but we lost 2-0.
We tried to sneak some of the boys on the team, but it didn't fly
The girls all behaved really well during the trip. It is an experience they will never forget, and I think it brought them all closer together.
Grace and Claire, who competed for the 'Smelliest Feet' prize. It was too close to call.
After the game, we traveled up to Gothenburg for the opening ceremonies of the games. They were incredible. It's like how I imagine it would be to attend the opening ceremonies for the Olympics, but more positive and uplifting. The girls were in their own section in a huge stadium that Sweden built when they hosted the FIFA World Cup in 1958. Local Swedish singers put on an amazing show. Here are some highlights from one of the singers, 17 year-old Hanna Ferm:
Hanna Ferm - Gothia Cup 2018
And this was one of our favorite parts of the ceremony, when a Swedish girl not much older than Grace gave this incredible performance:
Gothia Cup Opening Ceremony 2018 with Saga Ludvigsson
The fireworks at the end, right after the sun set, were stunning:
Gothia Cup 2018 Opening Ceremony Fireworks
It was just a huge, multi-cultural party with 79 countries represented and about 1,700 teams.
Luckily, Grace wasn't sitting with us so she didn't have to see us dance
Right after the ceremony, a huge lightning storm sprang up right overhead. Rain dumped down on us and it was total chaos trying to make our way back to the train station. All the parents were scattered everywhere with thousands of people running every which way speaking dozens of different languages. We were separated from our girls but they all held hands and marched to the train station in perfect orderly fashion while their parents were moaning with terror in the streets, praying to the Norse gods for an end to the madness.
The second day brought another game. This time against a really good team from Stockholm.
Action shot of Grace that was shared on the AYSO United Facebook page
This game was our toughest loss of the tournament. Afterwards, we naturally had to stop at the Swedish liquor store so we could drown our sorrows. The team was forced to wait outside.
"Yay! Mommy and Daddy are alcoholics!"
I think the coolest thing that happened in the tournament was the third game. Grace played against a team from Gothenburg. We were talking to one of the parents and it turned out that she adopted her daughter from China too!!! I think the parents were much more excited about this than the girls, but it was so neat to get a picture of them together after the game.
"Why are you making me stand next to this Swedish girl for a picture??"
We had lots of time before and after the games to go to the beach and do some sightseeing around Varberg. The girls would've spent every moment at the beach if they could.
The water was cold, but not as cold as I thought it would be
We toured a fortress on the water that was first built in the 13th century and upgraded several times during Sweden's never-ending conflicts with Denmark.
According to Wikipedia, the moat of the fortress has a small monster in it. In 2006, two people saw it devouring a duck.
We had an awesome tour guide who kept the girls interested by sharing amazing facts like how the prison cell was packed with 30-50 men. Their feces were only cleaned out once a year so it wasn't uncommon for men to drown in their own shit. Isn't history fun?
Wearing the watch men commonly wore in the 13th century
After traumatizing Grace in a medieval fortress, I think she got her revenge by 'accidentally' dropping a knife on my foot.
The cut looks pretty benign here but I think it was life-threatening
We were in the kitchen cutting avocados and the knife slipped off the counter and impaled the base of my toe. While I screamed in pain and told Grace that she'd just murdered her father, Sara (from our host family) calmly tried to staunch the flow of blood all over her kitchen floor. Unfortunately, we couldn't stop the bleeding so we put a large compress over the cut. This happened right before we were supposed to get on a train for Grace's final soccer game in the tournament. I was extremely disappointed, but it was decided that I should try to stay off my feet for the rest of the day and remain at home.
The worst part is that this game was their best of the tournament. They were tied at the end and had to go to a penalty shootout. After the first 5 penalty kicks, they were still tied and had to shoot five more. The other team ended up winning by one point, and I missed all of it because of a stupid cut on my foot.
While Grace and her team were playing in their exciting final game, Andreas put me and Agnus in this cool electric bike he rented and rode me all around Varberg so I could see the town. Varberg has an excellent bus system, but many people opt to take their intricate network of bike paths to get around town. Andreas told me it took 30 years to build up their maze of bike trails and make Varberg the friendly bike community it is. So, while Knoxville has just a few measly greenways for biking right now, I'm hoping that in 30 years time we will have a system of bike trails to rival Varberg, Sweden.
Andreas was an excellent biker and expertly steered me around town with ease. Then, it was Betsy's turn to try to bike me around Varberg.
You'd think it would be hard to tip over, but you haven't seen Betsy drive
The problem is that the bike has electrical assistance so when you get lost in the maze of bike paths and want to turn around, it's easy to misjudge the speed and turn radius and tip the bike. Or go into a ditch.
Yes, she took the picture while I was still in the bike
We went to one party at a host family's house far outside town. It was really beautiful bike riding out in the country. It was a little more scary biking back with Grace and I crammed in the front seat and Betsy trying to find our way home in the dark. We got turned around several times. Actually, I should admit that I got turned around several times. I kept insisting that Betsy go a different way because I was certain I knew where we were. At one point, she tried to turn the bike around and we tipped over. It didn't hurt me at all because Grace broke my fall. Grace was pretty miserable, and I'm not sure we'll ever get her into one of those bikes again.
There was a fair amount of drinking by the parents during this trip, but the most inebriated I got was when I had to change the bandage on my toe. My left foot is extremely sensitive compared to my right foot because of the radiation damage to my spinal cord, so I don't like anyone messing with it. So, before I'd let anyone go near it, I self-medicated with Swedish schnapps.
I'm smiling to hide the pain
Bottom's up
I'd have Agnus do open-heart surgery before I'd let Betsy anywhere near my foot. I'm pretty certain Betsy would somehow end up amputating the other foot on accident. So, Andreas and Sara replaced my bandage while I sat in a drunken stupor on their back patio.
Andreas was extremely excited to use the first aid skills he learned in the Swedish army
This was such a fantastic trip for me. I did have this stomach issue of needing to vent periodically, and there was the fact that I injured my foot toward the end of the week. But, I had my blender for the wonderful home cooked meals from our host family. And I had plenty of Real Food Blends for all the times we were out and about. The weather was perfect and the Swedish community is wonderful. I am so fortunate we had our Swedish coach and our host family to get us around the area and provide a 'home base' for me to rest and prepare my meals. I think navigating a different country where we have no foreign connections would be much more of a challenge. We'd like to go to China one of these days to visit the town where Grace was born, but I would need to do a lot of research beforehand and at the very least hire a guide to help us out.
Smiles at the Copenhagen airport, even though we were so sad to leave Sweden
Newark airport...welcome to America
After every long trip. I come in the house and give our dog a huge hug, tearfully telling him how much I've missed him. Every time, I hope he will return my affection like Odysseus' dog, Argos, who immediately welcomed his master home after his 20-year struggle to make it back to Ithaca. Unlike faithful Argos, however, my dog usually just stands there looking at me, then walks away to take a nap.
He really doesn't give a shit
So, just for that, I'm trading the fat bastard in for a French Bulldog that farts and snorts like a little pig. What do you think of that, you fat bastard!! Nope, he's not even looking at me. He really doesn't care.
