Uncategorized Archives - Life’s A Tripp

Frost Turns to Mo for Latest Hype Video

September 1st 2018 was supposed to be a day of celebration for the state of Nebraska. Earlier that year Scott Frost was hired as the coach of the Huskers virtually guaranteeing a return to 90’s glory! Big Red’s prodigal son had returned.

My son and I made the trip to Lincoln that evening to witness Frost’s historic first game as head coach versus Akron. The 90,000 fans created an atmosphere as electric as the dark gray cumulus clouds looming off in the distance.

The Husker video team could have shown Schindler’s list leading up to the kickoff and the fans still would have been out of their minds excited. Instead, we were treated to classic Husker Highlights. Johnny the Jet’s punt return against Oklahoma, Rozier’s run against UCLA, Frazier’s run against Florida, and Pelini’s post firing meeting with the team at a Lincoln High School.

Memorial Stadium was literally shaking prior to the kickoff as the rain started to fall. The savior’s debut lasted all of 5 seconds before players left the field due to lightning. My son and I waited it out through heavy downpours and rain themed songs that kept the fans entertained. The game was eventually cancelled forcing us to wait another week.

Little did we know then but those dark storm clouds would prove to be an omen for that 2018 season. Nebraska has been playing football for 129 years and never have they started 0-6. In those six games Nebraska found every conceivable way to lose a game. Dropped passes, blown leads late, Martinez hurt… it became almost laughable. Any collection of 22 men between the ages of 18-22 could have fared better against Michigan. The rival fans were having a field day at our expense. “Looks like that Frost warning got cancelled!” “Frost melts when heat is applied!” Husker fan remained optimistic. “Trust the process” became the rallying cry from Ainsworth to Ogallala.

The season wasn’t a complete disaster though. Nebraska finished the season winning 4 out of their 6 finals games that included Bethune Cookman, Illinois, and Minnesota. Most fans were able to use shoelaces again and domestic assault dropped by 71% during October and November. Scott could still hear the grumbling though. “This team is soft!” “They don’t have heart” “They still wilt under pressure” Frost had to take immediate action!

Needing a quiet place to think, Frost, a known gambler traveled to his favorite Council Bluffs Casino. Fueled by Jack Daniels and Copenhagen, Scott had an epiphany as the dealer dealt his 14th hand of blackjack. Navy Seal training! He thought to himself, “I have a Seal on my team, those guys are tough, and they killed Osama Bin Laden” After losing the last of his $500 he received in autograph fees he set out to inform his coaches of his plan.

Every coach and player to a man was all in for this. “We won’t have any problem with teams like Troy anyone after this!” whispered Lamar Jackson. The charter jet was fueled and Big Red was headed to the beach! The training was as tough as advertised. Log carries and boat crew drills replaced tackling dummies and wind sprints. The team learned how to overcome adversity and understood that you are only as strong as your weakest link. They even re-enacted the shower scene in GI Jane to remember how exposed they felt when trying to cover Rondale Moore. Frost was ecstatic! His teams bond was stronger than ever and was chomping at the bit to release this hype video to Husker Nation!

Watch the video here: Navy Seal Hype Video

Frost releasing the video to the wild via Twitter was like chum in Shark infested waters. At last check the video has over 25,000 likes and was retweeted 8,400 times on Scott Frost’s account. It was posted hundreds of times in the 413 different Husker Facebook groups and flags were ordered to be at half-staff in preparation for the fate of our 2019 opponents.

Nebraska fans appetites however are insatiable. The Navy Seal video as great as it was only held our attention for a few days. This wasn’t anything new. Plenty of teams do this type of training. We need something fresh something that will harken back to the glory years!

Rumors have been swirling that Frost is looking too talented but troubled Maurice Washington for the next hype video release. Washington is currently in a legal battle over a video he sent to a former girlfriend in California. Coach Frost realizes releasing this video would be controversial but it doesn’t get any more 90’s than this! I conducted a poll of 100 Nebraska fans and asked this question:

Would you support Coach Frost releasing the Maurice Washington video to motivate his team? 82% said yes they support it! A few commented about why they would.

Caleb from Gering, “4-8 is 4-8! if this leads to more stops on third down then hell I say release it!”

Margaret from Scribner, “These kids these days with their Snapchat and Instagram are always posting these videos. It’s what they do now. What’s one more? GBR!”

Read about Maurice’s questionable video. Legal Problems

If you need me, I’ll be here constantly refreshing Twitter.

Road Trip to Wrigley: Part 1

Road Trip Part 1

I feel the need to tell a story that has been kept in the hearts and minds of a few individuals, but hasn’t been told the way it needs to be told. I can remember so much of this special story, like it happened yesterday, and the more I think about it the more vivid the details become. You see, I can sit here and tell you that this is simply the tale of a typical road trip that six high-school buddies took to Chicago one weekend, but I would be doing the world a great injustice. If you break this story down into pieces, they would be insignificant. The fact that all of these smaller pieces, these side-stories, all happened in the span of 2 days, on one road trip, makes this story worthy of a Hollywood screenplay, and I want to emphasize, in no way am I using hyperbole with this tale.

Before we get started on the actual story, we have to start with the cast of characters. We begin with Todd Gillespie, the leader and consummate Chicago Cubs fan. Todd hatched this road trip plan and nurtured it through to fruition. Next, there was Bart Kukula, the crazy Polock. Always up to do anything, as long as it bordered on being illegal. Then there was Adam Tripp, the somewhat quiet, cool and confident one. Let’s not forget Brad Dilly, probably a genius, but one who always seemed to get in his own way. Myself, Don Bitler, the self-proclaimed smartass, always willing to drop a one-liner and offend someone at the drop of a hat. And last but not least, Eddie (the Eagle) Periseau, in whose memory I will dedicate this story. Tragically, Eagle’s life was cut short in 1997, as he lost his long battle with cancer.

The year was 1991. Operation Desert Storm dominated the headlines as the U.S. was finishing mop-up duty in the First Gulf War with Iraq, C&C Music Factory, Paula Abdul and Color Me Badd were on the Billboard charts, and Z. Cavaricci’s were still all the rage. The plan started off as an idea that Todd threw around. None of us were really Cubs fans except for Todd, and I believe he would have taken this trek on his own, eventually. It began innocently enough with, “We should all take a road trip to Wrigley”. “Yeah, that would be cool.” I really didn’t pay this any mind. I was only 16 and I knew my parents would never let me take a road trip with a bunch of other 16 and 17 year-olds. The idea, at least for a while, was just that, an idea. It was being tossed around in the spring semester of our junior year at Omaha South High School.

As the school year wound down, plans began to get serious. As more and more of us started to commit to the trip, I made the decision that this was something I needed to be a part of. I finally summoned up the courage to ask my parents. The worst they could say was “No”, and they initially did just that. My father, always fairly strict, thought the idea of a bunch of kids travelling so far from home was ridiculous. I decided to let them sit on it for a few days, but the seeds had at least been planted. A few days passed and I took my Mother aside and virtually begged her to let me go. She brought my Dad in, I begged some more, and finally my Dad gave me his permission in the form of, “Don’t fuck this up, kid. You’ll be grounded all summer if you do!” Tickets were bought and hotel arrangements were made. We would be leaving on a Wednesday, June 12th, to catch our first Major League Baseball game at Wrigley Field on Thursday, June 13th. The Cubs would be playing the hated San Francisco Giants.

We were to all meet at Todd’s house on Tuesday, the 11th, and we would be leaving bright and early in the morning on Wednesday. Since there were six of us, we would need two cars, and Eagle’s Mom generously rented a car. We were all gathered at Todd’s in the early evening, with the exception of Eagle. We were eagerly anticipating what type of rental car he would be pulling up to the house in. Eagle did not disappoint. He rolled up to the front of Todd’s house in a broken-down-looking, 1980’s Plymouth Reliant K. The car looked to be way past it’s prime and certainly not typical of a rental car. I wondered how and why, in 1991, a 1984 Plymouth would even be rented out. More importantly, looking at the condition of the car, we all wondered if this K-car had the guts to even make it to Chicago, an 8-hour drive. To Eagle’s dismay, we all started kicking the car. Getting angry, Ed yelled at us to stop. “Ahhh, IT’S A RENTAL!” we replied, and proceeded to keep kicking the car. Please make a mental note of the condition of the rental car, and the beating we were dishing out, as this will play a vital role in a subsequent portion of this story.

The anticipation was building as it was approaching 9:00pm on the eve of the big trip. We had all become restless and began wondering if we would be able to even sleep. “We should just leave now,” someone blurted out.
“Ha, Ha, Ha, yeah, we should.”
“You guys want to just leave now?” Todd asked all of us.
“Fuck it! Let’s just leave now!!!” we all decided.
With that, Dilly and Tripp piled into Todd’s Ford Tempo, Bart and I reluctantly hopped into Eagle’s Plymouth rental piece of crap, and we were off…

Stay tuned for Part 2…. On the Road

Coiled

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Growing up, I was quiet child. Tightly wound. A constant feeling of pressure in my chest from the coils of my feelings. Slowly tightening as the years passed.

Few truly knew me. My circle was small. I was an enigma wrapped in a mystery.

As I’ve gone through life, I have come to realize that my patience to open up is truly a virtue. I also learned that my silence was a detriment. My unwillingness often led to heartbreak.

I’m wiser now. I own the keys to my emotions. Not everyone deserves to be let in. I’ll speak the words I kept in my head and in my heart to those who are worthy.

Iowa: Swiping Left on Excellence

A chilly fall Saturday during college football season. The chili’s in the crockpot, the coffee is poured, and you are strapping in for an 11 o’clock kickoff between Iowa and Rutgers with Beth Mowins on the call. A slate gray sky producing a light drizzle as 29,000 faithful watch their beloved Hawkeyes.

It’s late in the third quarter with Iowa clinging to a 10-7 lead. A series of unimaginative play calls has Iowa staring at 4th and 2 from the Rutgers 34 yard line. Without the slightest hesitation Kirk sends out the punt team. The sparse crowd goes wild, showering the field with dollar bills as a raucous cheer of “one more year!”echoes through out the half empty stadium. Iowa will find a way to scratch out this win in route to wrapping up another 7-5 season prompting a four-year contract extension for Kirk.

Fast forward to the present. I’m driving on Interstate 80 to a friends house in Waukee Iowa just after 11 AM listening to the Husker pregame show on AM 590 radio. Initially, I wanted to write a heart warming story about the Hawkeye fans waving to the kids at the Children’s Hospital during their home games, but the deeper I drove into enemy territory the more this thought entered my head. The Hawkeye football program reminds me of whenever I open my Tinder app in the greater Des Moines area. As each potential candidate pops up, I find myself constantly dipping my head to the side saying “ehh” Not bad but not great either. Basically, if 7-5 was a state it would be Iowa.

Let me paint you a picture. It’s late Friday night in Waukee, I am finishing off a 12 pack of Busch light from Casey’s, and begin scrolling through Tinder. Through squinted eyes and an elevated blood alcohol content I swipe right on this 36 year-old from Fort Dodge. Boom it’s a match! After a series of what do you like to do for fun messages spanning 2 days, you decide to meet at Applebee’s for happy hour drinks and endless appetizers.

We agree to meet at 8 so I throw on some Buckle jeans with a button down and head out. I’m still a little giddy after watching Nebraska get Coach Frost his first win so I decide to arrive a little early. The hostess seats me where I can watch the Purdue vs Ohio State game when I see Deborah walk in sporting a Hawkeyes sweat shirt. After shaking my head and muttering “Christ”, I walk over to greet her as a true Nebraska man would.

The meal was less than memorable as you would expect from Applebee’s but they did have a beer they called Hawktoberfest that intrigued me. I inquired about the taste and the waitress said, “ehh, it’s not bad.” Even their beer is 7-5. The dinner conversation between Deborah and I is going pretty well. She’s throwing out some over the top sexual innuendos and invites me back to her place.

It’s about a 15 minute drive to her 3 bedroom ranch which allowed me to catch a few minutes of Big Red Overreaction. By the way, I am a complete gentleman and this is something I never do. Deborah and I settle in on the couch and after a few minutes of discussing how great I think Adrian Martinez will be, Deborah leans in for a kiss. Even though it’s not in my nature to move this fast, I meet her half-way for a sensual locking of the lips.

I feel a slight tingle and say to myself, “It’s 4th and 2 and you are in scoring position.” I was born and raised in Nebraska, lived through the Husker glory years, and am accustomed to greatness. We play with no fear of failure and take chances. I’m definitely going for it! However, Deborah is from Iowa. She grew up with empty trophy cases and years of mediocrity. It’s 4th and 2 for Deborah and without hesitation she punts. We end up watching Double Impact on Netflix and I leave with a hug and thanks for dinner.

The moral of the story is this. Iowa football will always swipe left on a chance at greatness.

Stay True

There will be periods in your life when the path you walk is yours alone.

Embrace solitude and find comfort in knowing you’ve stayed true to the path and yourself.

Those who choose to join you on the journey will reap the benefits.

Stillness

There’s a certain stillness to this area that appeals to me.

I think it reminds me of myself, my personality.

Now and then the wind blows across the water upsetting it, causing tiny ripples.

But like myself, it endures.

How a Rough Upbringing Shaped Me as a Man

In my initial blog post,

“Free Weights and Freedom” https://wp.me/p9wDyf-G , I discussed my inability or unwillingness to express my feelings and emotions. As a child and even throughout most of my adult life, I never fully gave friends and lovers full access to me emotionally. As my good friend Brad Dilly likes to say, “I am an enigma wrapped in a mystery.”

***

I grew up in a household with an alcoholic mother who drank nightly and a father who was a small time drug dealer which caused me to feel like I always had something to hide. I kept everything locked inside. This obviously had an effect on me and is the main reason why I am reserved in nature and have a hard time fully opening up to people. I will say this however; my upbringing made me the strong resilient man I am today. It took me a long time to realize where my resiliency comes from. Through all of my parents problems, they always provided for my brothers and I and ensured holidays were special. For years, my mother battled her drinking demons and eventually won at the age of 50. She has been sober for the last 16 years. My mother also quit smoking, got her drivers license, and now has multiple tattoos.

***

My father has been sober from his drug addiction for 25 years. As an 18 year old kid, new to the military and living in Alaska I received a call from my dad, saying he was checking in to treatment. Hearing my dad sound so defeated broke me down. My father is a Vietnam Veteran and a hero to me. He beat his addiction because his family meant more to him than the drugs. In September, my mother and father celebrated their 47th wedding anniversary. I know they truly love each other!

Despite all the issues I faced growing up, I don’t hold any grudges against my parents. It was important for me to tell them because of the guilt I know they felt. These experiences shaped my character and molded me into the man I am today. Some of my greatest attributes are that I do not rattle easy, I am even-keeled, and was unflappable during four deployments to war. I refuse to use it as an excuse as much as I don’t wear it like a badge of honor.

***

Since my divorce, I have made a conscious effort to work on this, and these heartfelt words about my closest friends are part of my progression.

***

I was thinking about how much I enjoyed last weekend and it brought me back to this picture. There are not 3 people (outside of immediate family) on this planet that I am closer to than Bartlomiej Kukula, Justin Spalding, and Brad Dilly. This picture of us is more than 17 years old and the fact that all of us were there together last weekend shows how much we still mean to each other.

I have known Bart and Brad for almost 30 years and Justin now for 17. It always amazes me to see that no matter how much time we spend apart, we alwayspick up right where we left off. We have shared our highest of highs and our lowest of lows with each other. The three of us have always been there for each other (fucking tearing up typing this, man up Tripp) and I know if ever called upon,they would be there at the drop of a hat.

***

Last weekend was everything that makes our friendship special. Brad and I share a similar upbringing that forever bonds us. Both of us had less than ideal childhoods but we managed to persevere. Brad describes us as fucking grinders! We lived together for a short time when I was in Omaha as a recruiter in 2001. Within a few months of moving in, the neighbors referred to him as a sick sad creep, he drove his car through the garage door, and pioneered online dating. He is always down to participate in some shenanigans. I will talk about a bachelor party we hosted at our house that involved Twister and baby oil at a later date. With Bart living in Poland and Justin living in Des Moines, Brad and I have become very close. He is my brother.

Bart and I met at South High as freshman and shared honors English together. Our bond formed through our love of sports and the Spring Lake Football League. These games were absolute wars on the gridiron that were not for the faint of heart. This league produced Hall of Famers such as Mike Boldt, Todd Gillespie, Don Bitler, Chris Navarrette, along with Brad, Bart, and myself. Bart and I both joined the military out of high school and our Army service will be something we can share with each other. This experience paid off huge during the Bomb Burrito recon mission after karaoke.

We both love lifting weights and I was fortunate to have Bart handle me at my first powerlifting competition last July. I was a nervous wreck the morning of the meet. Bart was there to help me warm-up, keep me calm, and was spot-on with the attempt selections. Bart’s coaching was the main reason I made all nine of my lift attempts. I could see it in his face and hear it in his voice how excited he was for me. After the competition, I went back and watched the videos of my lifts. In the background you can hear Bart yelling words of encouragement and cheering after a made lift. I was just as happy that Bart was able to be there and contribute to my success than with my own success that day.

Bart and I after my first powerlifting meet

Justin and I met through Bart when they both worked at 24-hour fitness in 2002. I eventually moved in with them and greatness was born! Justin and I bonded through our mutual enjoyment of entertaining people. We became dance floor legends at Eli’s and were so good that guys thought we were gay and women tried booking us to “perform” at bachelorette parties. Our first ever karaoke performance was completely unplanned at Beer City in South Omaha. We saw a microphone, a crowd, and at that moment a beam of light shined down on us and we knew our purpose. Our greatest karaoke achievement came when we won a contest for best duo at Club Roxbury in Omaha. Our prize was being taken to Denny’s by three women with lovely personalities. Justin and I enjoyed our Santa Fe Skillets while the three ladies hurled sexual innuendos our way. Justin and I played well off of each other and would test random comedy bits on unsuspecting people. One of our greatest bits was convincing when that we were B Movie actors on Cinemax… better known as Skinemax! I still feel bad for the poor Hooters waitress that stayed up until 2AM to catch is in the highly acclaimed movie, The Sexperiment.

We recently created the group FGI (Fun Guys Incorporated)on Facebook . FGI originated in 2002 during a trip to Worlds of Fun in Kansas City. This trip could be an entire blog post but here are a few of the highlights. Illegally parked, illegally camped (Bart for some reason wanted to sleep in a tent), botched dine and dash, invited back to a hotel only to be kicked out, almost mowed over by a tractor, nearly thrown out of Oceans of Fun, snuck into Worlds of Fun, and drove back by security to our illegally parked vehicle. It was at this moment when Bart said to us, “We are just a bunch of fun guys!”

https://www.facebook.com/groups/812443688936141/

FGI has brought me closer to another great friend of mine Don Bitler. Bit, let’s make an effort to see each other soon. He is an incredible storyteller that contributes to this blog. We will finish the book about the Chicago road trip in 1991.

***
Maybe I’m a bitch for writing this but I want these guys to know that I do, and have always appreciated our friendship. We have had some epic fucking adventures and I truly love you guys.

***
Don’t keep words in your heart and in your head. Tell people how you feel and value your friendships.

Free Weights and Freedom

It takes a certain type of person to raise their right hand, swear to an oath of enlistment, and enter military service. You must have a desire to serve and be a part of something greater than yourself. Plenty of people almost join the military but never go through with it. There are several standards that must be met including height, weight, legal, and physical fitness standards

***

During my time in the Army which spanned over 20 years, I was fortunate to serve with some amazing people and deploy four times to all inclusive resorts in Iraq and Afghanistan!

***

When you think of the word freedom, what comes to mind? William Wallace in Braveheart yelling, “FREEEEEDOM?” A bald eagle? As a retired US Army Veteran and Warrant Officer, the word freedom would conjure up an image of me shirtless, toting an AR-15, and having a mullet. Not that there is anything wrong with that, however, I feel a lot of us Veterans think freedom is wrapping yourself in the flag and being ‘Merica as F*ck!

***

Today, I am going to describe how I struggled to discover my true purpose through fitness and service and what freedom truly means to me.

***

The Army does an adequate job of preparing you to meet the fitness standard through unit physical training (PT). As much as I loved jogging mile after mile and the hundreds of overhead hand claps, I needed more. I developed a passion for fitness and nutrition that turned into a continuous quest for knowledge. As I became further educated, my body and mind reaped the benefits of my hard work and education. Other Soldiers in my unit began to take notice and would come to me for exercise and nutrition advice. I was by no means an expert but it was something I was passionate about and enjoyed helping others reach their goals.

After my last deployment to Afghanistan in 2013 I decided to submit my retirement paperwork. I felt I had accomplished everything I set out to do and my family was excited about returning home to Omaha. My retirement request was approved and I retired from the Army effective 1 February 2015. The transition from active duty to civilian life was not an easy one for me. I needed to show income outside of my Army retirement in order for us to buy a home. I ended up taking a job that made me absolutely miserable. During the summer of 2015 I also developed severe tendonitis in both of my patella’s that forced me to drastically limit my weightlifting. This combined with a job I hated brought on serious depression. I am reserved by nature but this caused me to withdraw from my wife and children. Instead of going to her for help, I shut her out. This led to my wife of 13 years filing for divorce. I take full responsibility for my actions, but I will not shoulder all of the blame. When you are married and say you love one another, you fight for each other. This to me felt more like an ambush and a betrayal.

***

It is difficult to describe how the separation and eventually divorce hurt me. A void in my life was created but I needed to find the root cause of my issues. Yes, the job sucked and I was injured, but after some soul-searching I realized the true void was not serving anymore. I just finished serving selflessly for my country and that came to an abrupt end on 1 February 2015.

***

After a few months my body recovered and I was back to working out on a regular basis. Though I felt better physically, I still had a burning desire to serve my community. A great friend of mine Jason Collins, who I served with in Iraq and I developed an idea to create the nonprofit organization Free Weights and Freedom. https://www.instagram.com/free_weights_and_freedom/

Our vision and mission is to provide fitness and nutrition classes to First Responders, Veterans, and their family members at no cost to them. Due to the nature of their line of work, these heroes often develop physical and emotional issues. Our organization provides a service that addresses their social, physical, emotional, and family needs. We provide an environment where they can gather socially and become comfortable talking about their problems amongst their peers while becoming physically fit.

I stumbled upon a TED Talk recently that reinforced what I feel is my true purpose. It asked the following five questions:

Who are you (your name)
What do you love to do or feel supremely qualified to teach people?
Who do you want to do it for?
What do they want or need from you?
How do they change or transform as a result?

I challenge you to think about these and answer them.

***

Finding my purpose and pursuing my passion is what provided freedom from the depression I was feeling. Fitness and serving others gave me the freedom to discover who I truly am and become the best version of me.

***

Lifting is more than looking good naked. The pursuit of strength has brought me confidence. My children look up to me, respect my discipline, and my work ethic.

***

Throughout this series of blogs, I will drill down into my previously stated issues. I ask you join me and discover what your true purpose is and what freedom truly means to you.

Being the Best You

It was a Tuesday morning, December 5th. The phone rang, and the doctor on the other line very casually said, “We got the pathology report back. It’s squamous cell carcinoma cancer.”

Rewind to mid-October. I remember watching the Dodgers in the post season and having this small, annoying sore underneath my tongue. It was more of a nuisance than it was painful. I passed it off as a canker sore, although I hadn’t had one of those since I was a teenager. “It will go away”, I kept telling myself. It didn’t. It kept growing, and it became painful, to the point I couldn’t eat certain foods and I had trouble swallowing. It had been a whole month now, and the lesion had grown to the size of a dime. I couldn’t find anything on the internet that remotely looked like what I had going on in my mouth, so I remained confident that this was nothing, and it would go away. I gargled salt water, hydrogen peroxide, apple cider vinegar, convinced I could home remedy this thing.

***

I decided to make the call to an oral surgeon to take a look. I booked an appointment, and within a couple days, I was sitting in the surgeon’s office.

“We’re going to cut it out and send it off to the lab”

I knew this was the most probable outcome, but still, I asked the Doctor, “Just a piece?”

“The whole thing. Doesn’t make sense to just cut a small piece out and leave anything remaining.”

“Ok, so when are we going to do this?”

“Right now”

Now my mind was racing, thinking of the pain that would be involved in doing this procedure. I was 100% accurate in my assessment. The Doctor swabbed a topical anesthetic and let that set in for a bit. Then came the big guns.

“This is going to pinch,” he said as he jammed the syringe with anesthetic deep into my tongue, underneath the lesion.

I death-gripped the arms of the chair, waiting for this torture to end. “JUST BREATHE!” the doctor’s assistant tried to comfort me. The procedure took about 10 minutes once I was all numbed up. Doc sent the lesion off to a pathologist, and I would have the result in about a week – a whole different kind of torture.

“Squamous cell carcinoma. We need to set you up with a head and neck cancer specialist.” I was in a fog. Cancer?!?! Seriously??? Doc said I was a little young – his oral cancer patients are typically in their late 50’s – especially for a guy who doesn’t smoke and is only a casual drinker, at most.

***

The Oral surgeon, Dr. Beehner, was amazing during this process. He contacted an Oral Cancer Specialist that he trusted, Dr. Simms, and told him the story. Dr. Simms office notified him they were booked a month out. “No,” Dr. Beehner said, “We need to get him in there now.” They made it happen for me. A week later, I was laying on the MRI table.

The news was both good and bad. Dr. Simms didn’t see anything to indicate the cancer had spread to any lymph nodes. That’s not to say it’s not there, but he didn’t want to open up my neck for no good reason. For now, that will need to be monitored – every 3-6 months for the foreseeable future.

The bad news, was that the initial pathology report indicated that the cancerous cells on the sample were a bit too close to the margins to be deemed safe. I would have to go through a second tongue procedure, to make sure they get it all.

As I’m sitting here writing this, I’m in excruciating pain from the 2nd procedure that was done today. This time required surgery, since they had to keep me out for an extended period of time while they run the sample to pathology and test it, before determining whether or not more would have to be cut out.

***

Upon waking up in the recovery room, the first words out of my mouth were, “Did they get it all?”

“They did.” I sobbed uncontrollably – maybe it was the anesthesia wearing off, maybe it was the flood of emotion that I had been keeping in.

“Let it out,” the nurse was hugging me as I cried like a baby.

It’s been a surreal couple months. When I first heard “carcinoma”, I really had no reaction. It didn’t sink in. I just knew I was relieved to have it out of my body. A day or two later, though, I went to a darker place, checking out WebMD and seeing all the horror stories. I was convinced that my tongue would be removed, along with my voice box. I was never going to talk or eat food through my mouth/throat. The mind plays cruel tricks with you if you let it. I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself or asking “Why me?”. Far better men than I have suffered much worse, so why NOT me. I almost feel like a pussy. Hell, this was easy. My Mom had gone through some brutal chemo and radiation after being diagnosed with breast cancer 3 years ago.

***

This isn’t over by any means. This could pop up again in a couple months or a couple years. What this did, however, was give me a big punch in the nuts. I need to do better. I need to live better. I need to be a better person, a better husband, a better father. I’ve spent too many years in a chair, working. Ten, 12, 16 hours some days. A slave to the chair since late 2001.

I immediately cut out energy drinks. I had been drinking 1-2 a day for years. Years! I was drinking sodas on top of that. Coke was my poison. For the time being, I’ve decided to forego all alcohol and I’m weaning myself off the Coke. From this day forward, my only caffeine comes from coffee.

In The FGI Podcast, we focus on sports, dating, relationships, sex, beer, etc. It’s more than that, though. I think it’s about living a better life, being the best YOU you can be. It’s about laughing at everything along the way, because there is humor in the most morbid and mundane.

I’m definitely not a New Year’s resolution guy. If it’s worth doing, you’ll do it now and not assign a date to it. I’m also really in no position be giving anyone advice. I just wanted to share this experience because it HAS changed me. At 43 years old, I’ve simply decided to just BE better.