Red Lobster

My wife is a work of art. Smooth, alabaster skin, dainty nose, moist lips kissed by a rose, hair of golden silk, hazel eyes like a misty forest after a storm. Unmarred by age, she is just as beautiful today as the day I married her. A model. A diva. A goddess.

But something happens to my sweet angel when she eats crab legs. 

Something...unusual. Something...terrifying. 

Here we are a few days ago out at one of her favorite places to eat in Knoxville, Red Lobster:

Grace just came for the biscuits

Seems innocent enough, right? Everybody out for a good time? Why don't you look a little more closely at Betsy's face.

OH. MY. GOD!!!!!!

Yes, my wife turns into a hideous monster around crab legs! Woe to any man, woman, or child who gets between her and her pound(s) of crab meat. The waiters already know what she's come for, drawing straws to decide who will be unlucky enough to bring her offering. "Can we get you anything else, Ma'am?" "JUST BRING ME THE LEGS!!!!!!  RRRRAAAAAWWWRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!" With the piercing cry of a velociraptor she tears into the plate timidly presented by the waitress. 

Yes. My wife is a velociraptor.

The shells are pathetically inadequate against her powerful claws. Terrified, Grace pathetically sobs in the corner. I warn other diners to run while they still can. Over the ripping, rending sound of her fangs sinking into crab flesh I hear panicked screams from those caught in her fiery glare.

This is WITH red-eye-reduction

By the end of the meal, we have the place to ourselves. I sit uneasily across from the terrifying beast who once was my wife. A mangled pile of crab shells lies in front of her. Her hands and arms look as though she has bathed in butter sauce.

"She's more machine now than woman"

A frightened waitress warily presents our bill before scampering back to the kitchen with a whimper. Looks like another Red Lobster we won't be welcome back to.

These photos were not doctored in any way.

I guess what I'm getting at here is Betsy LOVES crab legs. She consumes them with the type of lazer-like focus that I would reserve for reading fantasy novels, tuning out any distractions. 

Husband choking? "Not now, I'm eating." 

A table-side visit from the President? "Can't talk right now! You see what I'm doing here?!?" 

Daughter getting kidnapped? "Donph bofvfer meph. Thesph cramph lergs arph so goonmph." 

She actually didn't start eating crab legs until we started dating in Florida, but ever sense then Betsy can't get enough. 

As usual, Red Lobster's managers and wait staff were very understanding and had no problem putting my meal in the Blendtec and bringing it out to me in the pitcher. The manager this time was Rachel and our server was Keona. They were both extremely nice and gave us excellent service.

Unfortunately, the restaurant doesn't have a gluten-free menu. Instead, they have a printout of their allergen menu (you can see it at: http://www.redlobster.com/health/allergy/pdf/RL_Allergen_Menu.pdf) This menu lists every item on their menu and which allergens it contains (nut, soy, dairy, wheat, etc.). It is nice that they provide this much, although it takes a bit to find the entrees and decipher which ones might contain gluten. Maybe I'm being too demanding? I don't know; I guess if you want to eat gluten-free at Red Lobster, it would be a good idea to check out the allergens beforehand to plan out your meal.

I got the stuffed flounder with brocolli on the side. Wish I could've had a couple of those buttery biscuits they serve because they are sooo good!

Grace had to take the picture because mommy was feeding on crab carcass

Grace is petrified of lobsters, but this one seems harmless

I made her stand in front of them anyway. Am I a bad father?

Thanks for another great night, Red Lobster! Sorry about the mess.

Product Endorsement

I am so jealous of Julie Bombacino. "Who is Julie Bombacino," you ask? She is a mother who started a company in 2012 that makes real food blends for tubies (RealFoodBlends.com). Why am I jealous? Because I wish I had that idea myself. Instead, I'm sitting on my ass writing about the HUGE difference her company will make on those of us who tubefeed. Not to mention the dramatic effect she'll have on companies that manufacture formula and tout their product as "nutritious." 

Let me share my experience eating Julie's meals, as opposed to pushing an 8 ounce can of TwoCal HN through my tube. 

First of all, what are the ingredients in a typical formula like TwoCal HN? They don't have it on their cans, but I did find it on their website.

475 calories of fun!

Water, Corn Syrup Solids, Sodium & Calcium Caseinates, Corn Maltodextrin, High Oleic Safflower Oil, Sugar (Sucrose), Medium-Chain Triglycerides, Canola Oil, Fructooligosaccharides, Potassium Citrate, Magnesium Chloride, Calcium Phosphate, Natural & Artificial Flavors, Soy Lecithin, Sodium Citrate, Ascorbic Acid, Choline Chloride, Taurine, L-Carnitine, Zinc Sulfate, Ferrous Sulfate, dl-Alpha-Tocopheryl Acetate, Niacinamide, Calcium Pantothenate, Manganese Sulfate, Cupric Sulfate, Thiamine Chloride Hydrochloride, Pyridoxine Hydrochloride, Riboflavin, Vitamin A Palmitate, Folic Acid, Biotin, Chromium Chloride, Sodium Molybdate, Potassium Iodide, Sodium Selenate, Phylloquinone, Cyanocobalamin, and Vitamin D3.

No meal is complete without a helping of dl-Alpha-Tocopheryl Acetate, right? Also, what the hell are Fructooligosaccharides? They sound delicious, whatever they are. I actually had to look them up. There's a wikipedia page devoted to Fructooligosaccharides, believe it or not. They serve as an alternate artificial sweetener and are touted for their prebiotic (not probiotic) health benefits. You learn something new every day. So TwoCal has Fructooligosaccharides going for it, if nothing else. How about Ensure Plus? They also supply ingredients on their website:

I prefer vanilla; Betsy likes her chocolate. Either way, it's crap.

Water, Corn Maltodextrin, Sugar, Milk Protein Concentrate, Canola Oil, Soy Protein Isolate, Corn Oil, Pea Protein Concentrate. Less than 0.5% of the Following: Natural & Artificial Flavor, Magnesium Phosphate, Potassium Citrate, Soy Lecithin, Sodium Citrate, Potassium Chloride, Calcium Phosphate, Calcium Carbonate, Salt, Choline Chloride, Ascorbic Acid, Potassium Hydroxide, Carrageenan, Ferrous Sulfate, dl-Alpha-Tocopheryl Acetate, Zinc Sulfate, Niacinamide, Manganese Sulfate, Calcium Pantothenate, Cupric Sulfate, Vitamin A Palmitate, Thiamine Chloride Hydrochloride, Pyridoxine Hydrochloride, Riboflavin, Chromium Chloride, Folic Acid, Sodium Molybdate, Biotin, Sodium Selenate, Potassium Iodide, Phylloquinone, Vitamin D3, and Cyanocobalamin.

No Fructooligosaccharides but I see dl-Alpha-Tocopheryl Acetate again. There are a lot of similarities. Sugar is high on both lists. At least Ensure has pea protein concentrate; that's a recognizable vegetable, right? Also, both products seem to contain a lot of corn. 

Boost Plus? I can't tolerate their formula at all, but here's an image of their ingredients:

Once again, sugar and corn are prominently featured and there're those Fructooligosaccharides again. I get a formula called Jevity whenever I'm staying at the hospital. It's supposed to be strictly for tubefeeding. Jevity is made by the same company that makes TwoCal. Here are the ingredients for their formula:

Don't know if I get the 1.0, 1.2, or 1.5 Cal but this is what it looks like

Water, Corn Maltodextrin, Corn Syrup Solids, Sodium & Calcium Caseinates, Soy Protein Isolate, Canola Oil, Corn Oil, Fructooligosaccharides, Medium-Chain Triglycerides, Soy Fiber, Oat Fiber, Calcium Phosphate, Magnesium Phosphate, Potassium Citrate, Gum Arabic, Soy Lecithin, Potassium Chloride, Carboxymethylcellulose, Sodium Chloride, Ascorbic Acid, Choline Chloride, Sodium Citrate, L-Carnitine, Taurine, Zinc Sulfate, dl-Alpha-Tocopheryl Acetate, Ferrous Sulfate, Niacinamide, Calcium Pantothenate, Manganese Sulfate, Cupric Sulfate, Thiamine Chloride Hydrochloride, Pyridoxine Hydrochloride, Riboflavin, Beta-Carotene, Vitamin A Palmitate, Folic Acid, Biotin, Chromium Chloride, Sodium Molybdate, Potassium Iodide, Sodium Selenate, Phylloquinone, Cyanocobalamin, and Vitamin D3.

Corn and Fructooligosaccharides. Plus some Carboxymethylcellulose. That's a new one. Why did formula companies have to fill their products with all these complex ingredients, rather than just use actual food?? Before Ensure and TwoCal and all the rest came along, people used to get blended meals through their tubes. We need to get back to our "tubie roots" because it's much healthier. Everyone in the "Blenderized Diet" community can attest to the dramatic difference eating real food has on our health.

So, let's walk through the way I feel putting formula through my tube. In the morning, I often have a can of TwoCal because it's more convenient than preparing a meal, I'm lazy, and one can doesn't make me nauseous the way 5 cans a day would. So here's my open can this morning:

"blllleeeeeaaaaaahhhhh"

And here's how I feel when I eat it:

Note the look of revulsion.

TwoCal, or any formula, feels really heavy in my stomach. Like I've just ingested a brick. I don't feel satisfied at all. If I have to subsist on TwoCal all day, eating nothing else, I have a hard time getting down the amount I need. Before I started eating blended foods, my nutritionist had me take at least 6 cans of Ensure Plus ("preferably 7," he said) every day. Typically I couldn't do more than 4 or 5. Desperate to get calories, I got a pump through the VA so I could slowly pump in formula overnight. I couldn't stand being tethered to a pump, but it was the only way I could stomach any of the formulas I tried. 

Then I found blended food. Sort of sounds like a religion, I know. But my life has gone from a downward spiral to actually enjoying eating again. 

Anyway, let's take a look at Mrs. Bombacino's ingredients for the "Salmon Oats & Squash" blend. It's right on every box: 

Pretty much just what it says

Good until January 2017 so I can start stocking up for the zombie apocalypse!!

Water, squash puree, salmon, pomegranate juice concentrate, rolled oats, flaxseed oil. 

That's it. I recognize every one of those ingredients. The other night I had the pleasure of eating a "Salmon Oats & Squash" blend. First, here's a picture of Grace doing the happy dance when I got a package of blended meals:

I told her the box was full of chocolate. Am I a bad father?

Once you open a box of the salmon blend it looks like this. Sort of like an M.R.E. pouch. So maybe tubies could be in the military! Or all our soldiers should have feeding tubes!!! Just something to think about.

MRE flashbacks...

The pouches are designed to stand on their own. This is so that you can draw up a syringe-full right out of the pouch and plunge it in the tube.

It actually smelled really good!

Personally, it's easier for me to pour it into my tube directly, rather than pulling it up into the syringe with the plunger first (see my Mechanics of Tubefeeding post) so I dumped it out into a measuring cup to make it easier to pour. Here I am eating a Real Food Blend:

I know it's hard to tell, but that's my happy face

It was just like eating a regular blended meal. Easy on my stomach. I felt completely satisfied, even with such a small amount. This is more of a child-size portion, just 8 ounces. I could easily have eaten two of these in one sitting. No nausea. Could I ingest 2 cans of Ensure, one after the other like that? Not a chance.

These meals will be so vital to me when I'm traveling! They're easy to pack. They're shelf-stable, without needing refrigeration. I like the gluten-free "Salmon Oats & Squash" blend, but they also have a gluten-free quinoa blend and a chicken blend. Mrs. Bombacino says that they are working on more adult-size portions. Seriously, EVERY TUBIE NEEDS TO GO OUT AND BUY THESE BLENDS!!!!

No, I'm not just urging other tubies and tubie moms to buy Real Food Blends. EVERYONE needs to buy these meals, and I'll tell you why. I'm tired of visiting someone else's house and being asked, "Can I get you anything to eat?" Then I have to put that wry expression on my face and say, "Sorry, no, I eat through a feeding tube." More often I'm too tired to go into detail about my health issues, so I say, "No thanks, I'm not hungry." This leaves my host thinking I'm impolite, too good for their food, angry words are exchanged, I'm never invited back, yada yada yada, we exchange death threats. It's a whole big thing.

For all those times, you need to buy at least a decent selection of Real Food Blends. To make people like me feel at home. "Would you like something to eat, Brian? What's that you say? You eat through a tube? Well actually, I have a selection of delicious blended meals I can offer you." This would make me feel so welcome. So included.

You know what? If you don't get a salmon meal, then I'm not coming to visit you. Ever. How about that? I know the vast majority of you are thinking, Fantastic!! I don't want that guy on my street, much less in my house!!! However, for those of you who enjoy my company. If you beg me constantly to come by, just for an hour, at least. If you wait by your front door every day hoping for a glimpse of me, then this message is for you!! Yeah, I'M TALKING TO YOU, MOM!!! ...no? uh...ok....THEN I'M TALKING TO YOU, GRAMMY!!! She can't say no because she doesn't use the internet, so HA!!!!!!

So, if you'd like to be a good host, then please buy a nice selection of Mrs. Bombacino's meals. Like I said, she should be coming out with adult-size portions soon. Here's the link again: RealFoodBlends.com or they're on Amazon (link)! 

Here's to Being Different

Kids stare at me. Not the idolizing, "I-look-up-to-you-and-worship-you" stare. It's more the "Whoa. What-in-God's-name-is-WRONG-with-that-guy?!?" type of stare. 

You see, I'm partly paralyzed on my left side. Only the right side of my mouth moves. My right arm is much bigger than my left. In fact, my left arm mostly just swings uselessly at my side. I'm unable to swallow, so I have a feeding tube inserted into my stomach and dangling about 8 inches down to peek out of the bottom of my shirt. The inability to swallow also causes me to drool at inopportune moments like at the smell of food when I'm especially hungry, or at the sight of the Denver Broncos cheerleaders (I'm just joking Betsy; I only have eyes for you).

"What is that ugly man doing with his coffee, Mommy?"

All this means that when I first volunteered in Grace's elementary school classroom, kids had a hard time focusing because they were so busy staring at me. Or, when I eat through my feeding tube out at a restaurant, children are mesmerized by the sight of me eating. At one particular restaurant I was eating with my family and a young boy walked around my table (TWICE!), saying nothing and staring with wide eyed astonishment as I pushed blended food into my stomach.

Does it bother me? Yes, I have to admit that sometimes it does. I don't enjoy feeling like some sort of circus freak show.

OK, I guess I do look like a circus freak, but doesn't she look adorable?!?

I think many people who read this blog can relate to the way I feel. I'm not saying you're all circus freaks...well...maybe you are...but it's not something I'd say here. I'd say it behind your back or on a public forum like Facebook. 

Actually, I think everyone has experienced standing out in the crowd. Parents with tubefed children who feed their son or daughter in public. Or parents whose child has autism, or cerebral palsy, or Down's syndrome. Anyone with a disability or disease that makes them publicly conspicuous understands. What do we do about it? Many people retreat from the public eye. They fear going out. They imagine what others are thinking about them. What are they whispering to their friends? Are they quietly laughing at my infirmity? 

I used to hate tubefeeding in public. I forbid anyone from taking photos of me in the act. When our family went out to restaurants, I would just sit and stare at my wife and daughter eating. "No, waiter, nothing to eat or drink for me; just hurry up and bring the bill so we can get home and I can eat."

Everyone who's adopted an Asian child knows what I'm talking about here. We adopted my daughter, Grace, from China in 2008.

The moment Grace became our daughter, July 23, 2008, Nanchang, China

Many parents of foreign-born children have experienced being stared at because we look different. We are white parents with children who look nothing like us. We all know how it is when we're sitting in the mall food court and we can feel eyes on us. Are they silently judging us? Do they look at us with pity? Are they looking down on us? We know they're raising questions in their minds and answering those questions with their own misconceptions and prejudice. Just come out and say what you're thinking! In our minds, we imagine their ignorant inquiries and our sharp responses:

"There are so many kids who need adopting right here. Why adopt from China?"

"You're so LUCKY you didn't have to go through labor!"

"Do you feel like she's not really yours?"

"I couldn't adopt. No way I could love a child that's not really mine."

"From a distance, you look like you could be her real mother!"

This family seems pretty ordinary to me

But my daughter taught me to look at things differently. When she sees another kid staring at my tube, she speaks right up, "My daddy can't swallow so he eats through a tube." She'll say it to anyone. "My daddy had cancer and his arm won't work." Even if I haven't shown my tube. If someone just offers me some water, or a bite to eat. "Daddy has a feeding tube. He puts his food in a blender." She speaks without apology--without embarrassment. "Daddy can't run." "Daddy you're spitting." "Daddy used to play guitar, but he can't now." She even mimics my smile; only pulling up one side of her mouth and squinting one eye as she gives me a thumbs up. My daughter isn't bothered at all by my appearance. I'd say she's proud of my differences. 

Daddy's girl

My six year-old has been my example. I volunteer in her classroom as much as I can. I've started a blog where I post pictures of myself tubefeeding. At swimming pools, I walk unashamedly with my shirt off, displaying my tube, my emaciated arm, every inch of my disfigured body. Well, not every inch; pretty sure I'd get arrested for that.

She brings me out of my shell

In the same way, our differences--whether we're caucasian parents of foreign children, parents of disabled children, or suffer from some physical deformity that makes us stand out in the crowd--needn't be something to feel self-conscious about. On the contrary, we should all be proud to stick out in public. Just like Grace with my disability, we need to speak up to banish others' ignorance. I've learned that standing out in a crowd can be awesome. I love introducing kids, and adults, to the idea that some people eat differently. I love showing people that families can be unconventional too. Sometimes parents don't look like their kids but that's ok. So here's to being different!

Don't be like all the other penguins

Almond Butter

Betsy and I are planning to attend the Disabled American Veterans Winter Sports Clinic again this year. Last year was the first time I went, and it was awesome!! The DAV is kind enough to pay for the first visit, but the veteran has to cover travel to Snowmass and lodging every other time. Lift tickets and my meals are still free, though we have to pay for Betsy' and Grace's skiing and meals. Even with the things the DAV pays for, the cost for 3 tickets from Knoxville to Aspen, seven nights at the resort hotel (admittedly at a very reduced cost), ski school for Grace, lift tickets for Betsy, meals and incidentals gets pretty expensive.

So, a few months ago, I wrote a letter to Blendtec asking if they would sponsor me for the next clinic. A very nice representative wrote back explaining that they don't have a budget for sponsorships, however she enjoyed reading my blog and sent me two new containers for my blender, a Wildside jar and a Twister jar.

Still got that "New Jar" smell

Although it looks smaller in the picture, the Wildside jar is about twice as big as the standard pitcher the Blendtec comes with. It is MUCH better for the larger blends I eat when I go out. I don't even use the original pitcher anymore. 

AAAAHHHHH!!!!!! There's a head in my Wildside jar!!!!!!!

The Twister jar is much smaller, about half the size of the original. Like any male, I failed to read the directions about the Twister jar and assumed it was for making smaller versions of my typical blends; sort of like a travel pitcher. So, I put my regular lunch blend in there, added water, and pushed the soup/syrup/fondue button, thinking it would mix up my meal like always. What I didn't know--and what I easily could've found out had I read the instructions--was that the Twister jar is more for making blends with a heavier consistency. This includes things like dips, or thick shakes, or pizza dough. The blade in the Twister is looser than the blades in the original or Wildside jars. This enables it to spin at a faster rate than it would normally, so it can cut through thicker blends. So, when it's confronted with a "normal" blend like my typical lunch, the blades have such a high RPM that they quickly overheat. And this is what happened to me. The Blendtec's typical loud roar became a high pitched whine and after about 10 seconds it shut itself off. Being the idiot I am, I tried it a couple more times with the same result. And that's when I finally looked at the directions and this handy booklet of recipes:

Couldn't come up with a witty caption for this picture. It's a recipe booklet, ok?

The other day, I decided to put the Twister jar to the test with Blendtec's almond butter recipe. I frequently eat almond butter in my blends, but it is ridiculously expensive at the store. However, you can buy large bags of raw almonds at Costco for pretty cheap. So, ideally, I can fill my own mason jars or tupperware with homemade almond butter and never have to pay for the stuff again.

Where's the gram of sugar come from? Do almonds naturally have sugar?

For this project, I enlisted the assistance of my daughter, Grace. She usually likes to "help" me when I cook. I put "help" in quotes because she's six and I love my daughter more than anything but she's pretty useless in the kitchen. Grace "helps" me by giving me the opportunity to clean the kitchen because 

"Daddy, I'll crack that egg....oops...sorry Daddy..."

"Let me stir, Daddy!  Whoops...sorry Daddy..."

"I want to pour the milk, Daddy!!  Uh oh...sorry Daddy..."

So then I say, "Betsy, I can only use one arm, so can you clean this??"

Anyway, here she is, along with the recipe, the ingredients for the almond butter (1.5 cups of almonds), my three pitchers (Twister jar is on the left), and the blender base:

There's a white hairy monster in this picture!!!!

This is an operation that takes two hands. One hand needs to change the blender speed to seven then stop the blender after 40 seconds. The other hand continuously turns the Twister lid in order to make sure every almond is thoroughly creamed. So, I had my trusty assistant speed up the blender to seven while I held the lid. 

Unfortunately, Grace got no higher than two because I wasn't holding the lid down tight enough and almond dust sprayed everywhere. My highly dependable helper screamed in terror and ran out of the room, leaving me holding the lid, looking around, wondering if maybe the dog could increase the speed or turn the bloody thing off for me (excuse the language; I've been watching a lot of British television). Finally, after 2 minutes of trying unsuccessfully to raise the speed with my nose and faithfully rotating the Twister lid at a whopping speed of 2 while my cowardly child peered anxiously around the corner, the blender overheated and shut itself off. 

The picture doesn't show the chaos happening in the kitchen right now

Since I was using raw almonds, rather than dry roasted, I needed to run the blender at Speed 7 "until smooth and creamy." So, I dragged Grace back in the room and our second attempt at getting up to 7 went much more smoothly. Altogether, we probably ran the blender about 4 minutes before I felt like the almond butter was the right consistency. 

The chaos in the kitchen is similar to what's happening in the Twister jar

I do need to specify that I did not try tasting this almond butter because I can't eat, but it looked similar enough to the stuff I buy at the store. Grace has an allergy to tree nuts (or maybe she really doesn't like them; we haven't had her tested), so she didn't try it either. If you have a Blendtec and Twister jar, you'll have to try this sometime and let me know how it is!

Can you tell she's been getting rich from the tooth fairy?

Thanks again for the equipment, Blendtec!!

Tubie vs. Wild

It is my fondest hope that one day Grace will cherish these musings from her father and be able to pass them down to her therapist ("See, doc? It really is my parents' fault!!"). You see, not all of them are about tube feeding. Some posts concern the most important questions in life. For example, if you're on a plane that goes down in the Siberian wilderness and only you and one other person survives, who would you want that person to be?

Back when I had cable, I used to watch that Man vs. Wild show on the Discovery Channel. In case you haven't seen it, they drop an ex-British SAS guy into various environments to see if he can survive with no food/water/shelter for a few days. The dude's name is Bear Grylls, which makes me giggle because I think of Wolf Blitzer interviewing Bear Grylls and possibly Tiger Woods, and how can anyone take Wolf Blitzer seriously? His name is W-O-L-F B-L-I-T-Z-E-R. 

Bear (you're welcome, ladies)

Bear (you're welcome, bear enthusiasts)

Wolf (you're welcome)

Anyway, Bear (the person, not the animal) demonstrates how he would go about finding water in the Australian outback or the Sahara, or shelter in the arctic or the tropics, or avoid being eaten by bears (the animal this time) in Canada. I lost interest in the show after it was revealed that Bear spent most of his nights in 5-star resorts, because if I'm going to sit on my ass and watch a guy nearly freeze to death in Patagonia it better be legit, am I right?!?

Every time I watched the show, I would think, What if that were me? How long would I last in the Amazon jungle? Could I jump in a frozen lake just to show people why you shouldn't jump in frozen lakes? Based on my resume, I think you'd want me on your team if your plane goes down. Let's ignore the fact that I'm a tubie for the sake of argument because if my plane goes down in the middle of nowhere right now, it better include a few crates of formula or a Blendtec and a generator. I'm an Eagle Scout so I ought to have loads of camping and outdoor skills. Plus, I went through survival training in Colorado and in eastern Washington. The survival school in Washington included time spent in a mock POW camp. So ideally I could get you through "enhanced interrogation" by terrorists, plan and execute your escape, then allow you to comfortably live off the land while we await rescue.

However, as with many of my other qualities, the reality of Brian Liebenow is much more disappointing than you'd imagine. I've forgotten the vast majority of what I learned in the Boy Scouts, although I have retained the knowledge that Pop Tarts make an excellent meal at any time of day. I remember being able to start a fire using just two matches. Now I'd be lucky to get one going with two lighters and a bottle of lighter fluid. I remember knowing how to tie more than twenty different types of knots. Now, I have a hard time tying my shoes. I got more than twenty merit badges on everything from sailing to basket weaving (really, they had a basket weaving merit badge), but do I remember any of the many skills I learned? No. In fact, Betsy can attest that I know nothing about sailing and she'd be better off in the open ocean with nothing but a life preserver than being alone with me on a sail boat (maybe I'll share that story some other time).

Let me digress for a moment and share one of my favorite metaphors: the island of penguins. Imagine a small island filled, from one side to the other, with penguins. Nothing but penguins, standing around, looking at each other and chirping contentedly. Now imagine that island is your brain and those penguins are thoughts. You see, much like that island, the space in your brain is finite. It can only hold a certain amount of thoughts. When the island is filled to capacity with penguins, every time a new penguin is added, an old penguin falls off and is lost forever. In the same way, every time my brain adds a new thought, old thoughts are forced out.

As the iceberg melts, the penguins fall off. This is like dementia.

So, the knowledge I learned in the Boy Scouts used to frolic gaily about my island with room to spare when I was a know-nothing teenager. Since then, however, my Boy Scout penguins have been replaced by more important penguins from all my time in college and my time sitting in front of the TV watching quality shows like Man vs. Wild.

Therefore, you shouldn't pick me for your deserted island or zombie apocalypse team because of my Eagle Scout rank. But what about all that survival training I got while in the military? Between my freshman and sophomore years at the Academy, I went through a three week program called CST, Combat Survival Training. During the survival portion of the course, we learned how to identify edible plants in the wild; how to consume insects; and how to set snares for small forest animals as a potential source of protein. But, do I remember any of the plants that are safe to eat? Not really. Just the other day, I had a whole mouthful of poison ivy thinking it was lettuce. Just kidding! I actually thought it was marijuana and that is a "high" I won't soon forget. Nothing like what I experienced eating all those poppies in Afghanistan. Why don't they grow more of those here in Tennessee? Seriously, I NEED THOSE FLOWERS!!!!

Mmmmm...Arugula...that's what it is, right?

Also as part of the training, we practiced beating defenseless bunnies to death with clubs, skinning and gutting the cute critters, then making rabbit stew while we played with the corpses of the adorable animals to the amusement of our fellow survivors. Sorry PETA, but it was either the rabbits or us. Maybe you've forgotten about the vicious monsters in this award winning documentary: http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=XcxKIJTb3Hg. Yeah, and we didn't have any holy hand grenades either. Just two hands, our wits and each other. And knives. We all had knives. And opposable thumbs. And there's a size difference. Otherwise, we were evenly matched.

During the next portion of our training, we split into teams of three and each team had to navigate from one checkpoint to another in a certain amount of time, all while evading "enemy" capture. So, we had to travel at night, with no flashlights. In heavily wooded, rolling terrain. Fun, right? For my team, picture a smaller, slightly wimpier version of me. His name was Kevin. The other member of our trio was a larger, slightly tougher version of my sister. I don't know her name because I was too afraid to ask. We began our trek in the early evening, while there was still some light in the day. I had the brilliant idea that while it was still light, we should try to get as far as we could toward the next checkpoint without bothering to mask our movements because surely our "enemy" wouldn't be in position or prepared for our lightning speed. Within an hour, we were easily discovered by upperclassmen who were roving around the brush looking for idiotic teams to fall in their laps. As punishment, they put us in a truck and drove us a few extra miles from our next checkpoint. This instantly lowered morale on our fledgling team and significantly lowered Kevin' and Scary_Tough_Girl's assessment of my decision making ability.

I mostly wore pink. Is that why I kept getting caught?

Over the course of three nights of evading enemy capture, we were discovered three more times (this may have been a school record). On one memorable occasion, we were creeping across a field in pitch blackness--FYI, when I say "creeping" I mean Scary_Tough_Girl was creeping while Kevin and I were thrashing noisily like injured bears (the animals, not the person)--when floodlights suddenly blinded us from about 100 feet away. No, Not again!!! Kevin and Scary_Tough_Girl put their hands up, resigned to the fact that we'd been captured, for the umpteenth time. Not me though. I immediately went down in a crouch, hugging my knees in an attempt to look like the surrounding foliage. As the lights came closer, I used my Jedi mind powers to try to confuse the "enemy." I am a tree stump. I am a tree stump. I am a tree stump. Alas, the force was not strong that day. I saw a pair of boots stop right in front of me and a voice said, "What the hell are you doing?!?" By this point, the upperclassmen were through with trucking us farther from our checkpoints. Instead, I think they tried to get us closer because we were such a lost cause. By the end of our three night ordeal, I was dragging 100 yards behind my teammates, wearily putting one foot in front of the other and dreaming of Pizza Hut stuffed-crust pizza (I'd had little to eat other than rabbit stew and poison ivy and stuffed-crust pizza had just been introduced that summer. I was intrigued). Meanwhile, Kevin was complaining loudly of blisters while crashing through the woods, not caring about recapture, and Scary_Tough_Girl was looking at both of us with a mixture of disgust and revulsion.

So, do you want me as your survival partner now, in the event you get stranded in the Himalayas? I don't think so, unless you're confidant in your own abilities and you look at me as a potential food source.  

Bravo! Cucina Italiana

On December 29, we joined some great friends for dinner to celebrate my birthday and the ten year anniversary of the day I found out my cancer was in remission. 

It seems like whatever hardship we've suffered through in the past, if given enough time, we can look back on it with fondness. 

"Remember those college all-nighters and being stressed that we might fail the exam, drop out of school, and be forced to live in disgrace with our parents for the next 60 years? What I wouldn't give to live through that again!"

"Remember freshman year of the Academy, when we got screamed at because our closet hangers weren't correctly spaced apart? Good times. Good times."

"Remember living in a mud hut in Afghanistan, and being afraid camel spiders were lurking under the toilet seats of the porta-potties? Those were the days, eh?"

"Remember when I was tube feeding and I managed to spray food on the ceiling? Oh wait, that just happened. Maybe still too soon."

Of course there are plenty of exceptions. I hear about traumatic events on the news all the time that I highly doubt the people living through them will look back on fondly. I doubt I'll ever look at my jaw surgeries with nostalgia or some of my other radiation side-effects--although those are still happening. If I miraculously regained the ability to swallow, would I look back with envy on my years with a feeding tube? Maybe, if I'm eating brussel sprouts or sardines.

"Mmmmm...Brussel Sprouts..."

The thing about going through something like boot camp, or deployments, or cancer treatment is that while it's happening you often don't have to worry about anything else. All the other stuff gets taken care of by family or friends so you can focus on your mission at hand. So when you get home and you're confronted with bills, home repair, lawn maintenance, or taking care of the kids you look back and reminisce about the time when you didn't have to worry about all the minutiae of life. This is why some guys who've been in prison for extended periods are so afraid to be released back to the real world. Or why some guys who've gone through multiple wartime deployments choose to go back for another 12-18 months. Life is so much simpler. Just eat, sleep, and go out on patrol.

They just don't know how lucky they are.

Another nice thing about living through traumatic events is that they seem to bring out the best in people. While I was deployed to Uzbekistan in 2001, I got a package full of letters from a class of elementary school students in a town in Michigan I've never been to. Then, when I was going through chemotherapy while stationed in California, those same students (in 7th grade by this time) found out about it, and they each wrote me again. 

Also, when I was going through chemo,  some of the guys in my squadron got together and shaved their heads for me. 

The women shaved their legs in my honor too

There were countless acts of kindness from friends, family and perfect strangers. Lawns mowed, gift baskets, cooked meals, household repairs, hospital visits, shoulders to cry on, too many to go through. I'm thankful for cancer because it's made me see the grace and benevolence in all of us. 

It's been ten years now since chemo. It wasn't nearly as bad as radiation, I had a great oncologist, lived on the central coast of California, I had a supportive job that let me take all the time off I needed. My insurance paid for all my treatment. Numerous friends and family came to visit me. It's so easy to look back on this with rose-tinted glasses and forget about the worrying, IVs, chemo side effects, sleepless nights, waiting for test results and just being in pain in one form or another.

Big sis is shaving my head because I didn't want to watch my hair fall out

My favorite oncologist, Dr. Lossing

3rd Chemo Treatment. The Doc liked collecting movie posters

Renewing our vows for 2nd anniversary

So, ten years have passed since I heard the news that my cancer was in remission. It was also my 39th birthday. To celebrate, we invited our good friends, the Friedman's, out to eat at an Italian place called Bravo! Cucina Italiana. Whenever you say the name, don't you want to wave your arms around and use an Italian accent, or is that just me?

BRAVO!

I'd never been there before, but Betsy had. They have a gluten-free menu. Even better, they had a bar with T.V. channels showing the Broncos game!!

As usual, Betsy talked to a manager on the phone before we arrived and explained how I blend up my meals and eat through a feeding tube. The restaurant staff were very accommodating and had no problems with the Blendtec. If I could taste my food, I'd have thought the Gluten-Free menu had few options. Just three types of salad; a salmon dish, chicken dish, and filet mignon; along with three pasta dishes. I guess that's not so bad. It's nice that so many restaurants these days are making an effort to adjust to the growing need to reduce gluten. 

I got the "Chicken Griglia," which included whipped sweet potatoes and roasted vegetables. I explained to our waitress that she needed to add it to the Blendtec container with about 1.5 cups of water. Then, just hit the Soup/Syrup/Fondue button and let the blender do its magic. 

Grace is jealous because I get smoothies all the time

Everyone enjoyed their meal. I thought it was very filling. Bravo! is definitely a place we'll visit again!!

Our good friends, Adam and Jennifer, along with their awesome son, Sammy. Happy Remission Day!!!