Original anecdotes, commentary, rumination, and occasional pontification.
AUGUST 30, 2022 – (Cont.) “Day 7” is feeling like mile 13 of a marathon. I’m still flying along, on pace, but the pavement’s beginning to burn underfoot. I’ll spare the reader the details I shared at today’s appointment—“It’s all good!” as it is said—but not qu-i-i-i-te as good as it was the previous day, …
AUGUST 29, 2022 – (Cont.) Day Six. Yesterday’s appointment was another visit to the “MERCY CLINIC,” rather abandoned on the weekend, except for skeletal staff to administer to transplant patients like me—a two-day patient, a three-day, a six-day patient, I was informed. The wait was long enough for me to log a 10-minute walk up …
AUGUST 28, 2022 – (Cont.) Apparently the doctor’s kibosh on my future downhill skiing hadn’t infiltrated my subconsciousness. Last night’s dreams found me filling out an application for a season pass at a high Alpine ski resort. As I awoke, of course, the Swiss scenery faded, but I dwelt in the image as long as …
AUGUST 27, 2022 – (Cont.) Today at noon, I reach “Day 4” after transplant—better than halfway to the halfway mark toward “Day 14”— the day by which the engraftment of stem cells reaches a stage where transplant patients begin to feel better. That leaves 10 days in between. Ten. These are the really tough miles …
AUGUST 26, 2022 – (Cont.) Nurse John greeted me cheerfully at my 7:30 appointment yesterday. His mask concealed his face below his eyes, but the eyes and voice revealed unmistakable kindness and intelligence. His calm, friendly demeanor put me at immediate ease. Though definitely a “people person,” he also loved talking science—specifically, the science of …
AUGUST 25, 2022 – (Cont.) Roll back yesterday’s “video” of my LAX – LGA flight after take-off, climbing out of L.A. Having repeated my silent entreaty to the aviation gods for a “safe and uneventful take-off, a safe and uneventful flight, and a safe and uneventful landing” (four times, for extra efficacy–after all, airline safety …
AUGUST 24, 2022 – Blogger’s note: Being under the gun to make it on time to my daily appointment at the “Center,” I haven’t proofed this post. (Cont.) Yesterday I learned another lesson in hope for humanity. Before the transplant procedure yesterday afternoon, I hadn’t known the somewhat ritualistic significance that the medical team assigns …
AUGUST 23, 2022 – Blogger’s note: Wife is a sweetie. And I apologize for blowing way past my self-imposed daily word quota (of yore). (Cont.) Late Sunday evening my wife and I were still in the throes of preparing our abode for “cancer con”—short for “convalescence from the effects of cancer chemo treatment.” She had …
AUGUST 22, 2022 – (Cont.) Yesterday afternoon I joked to some friends that “I like going to the U of MN Cancer Center so much, I even go there on Saturday and Sunday.” Joking aside, this past weekend’s sessions, each for an infusion line flush, were brief and uneventful, except for the discovery that my …
AUGUST 21, 2022 – (Cont.) Whenever I enter the U of MN Cancer Center, I’m awed by a number of things, such as the cheerfulness of the mask-monitor-greeters and check-in staff, and . . . who thought of placing a high-end player piano at the top of the “grand stairway” leading from the lobby to …
AUGUST 20, 2022 – Blogger’s note: The gracious reader will accept my apologies for the poor self-editing of yesterday’s post. The explanation (versus excuse) is that our hyper-imaginative granddaughter was under our day-long charge. Among her plays, musical performances, story-telling, painting sessions, and backyard expeditions, all of which required audience/spectator participation, I assembled very few …
AUGUST 19, 2022 – (Cont.) Yesterday, calm prevailed in my own little world, however much “wheels-off” was the theme in the larger picture. Occupying the tranquility, but not disturbing it, were numerous exchanges with people who influence my outlook on life and humanity. Caught up in my own hopes, fears, and focus, I’m pulled away to broader …
AUGUST 18, 2022 – (Cont.) By day’s end yesterday, I was an A+ patient. The stem cell harvest produced a bumper crop—over 9 million cells, topping the goal by a million. My sister Jenny calls me a millionaire. Now the orders are in for the next few days: Covid test today—good thing, having woken up …
AUGUST 17, 2022 – (Cont.) I once had a friend, a close friend, a work colleague, whom I met my first day on the job as the lucky recruit to manage the “work-out” (deals gone bad) division of bank’s corporate trust department. The guy who hired me, it turned out, would later be escorted ignobly …
AUGUST 15, 2022 – (Cont.) Last night I slept like a rock, not because I was exhausted by the day’s interaction with the medical profession, but because of my complete confidence in the care that has been afforded me. Yesterday’s squad—Bridgette, Amber, Kaitlin, May, Annie, Randall, Bella, Laura, Angela, Mariah, plus others whose names went …
AUGUST 15, 2022 – (Cont.) “Is it okay if he drives himself to the appointment this afternoon?” my wife asked the physician’s assistant. “Sure,” said the PA. “Well, actually,” I said, “because of the sedation this morning, I’ve been instructed not to drive or make any important decisions for the rest of the day.” The …
AUGUST 14, 2022 – (Cont.) This morning when I arrived at the clinic for my third of five injections in the run-up to the stem-cell “harvest,” street parking was wide open. I luxuriated first by pulling into the slot closest to the entrance to the five-story U of MN Masonic Cancer Care Center. I indulged …
AUGUST 13, 2022 – (Cont.) Yesterday, after rain relented and the earth dried out, I embarked on my daily power-walk to “Little Italy” (next to “Little Switzerland”). For several blocks I thought I felt bone pain that I’d been told to expect from the five “sub-cu” injections I receive over the course of five days, …
AUGUST 12, 2022 – (Cont.) Blogger’s note: As threatened, the next number of posts will chronicle my “little adventure” into the land of treatment for multiple myeloma. May the reader excuse self-exemption from my self-imposed daily word limit. It’s the competitive marathoner’s worst nightmare: not getting to the starting line on time. That nightmare happened to …
AUGUST 11, 2022 – Eight months into my “diagnosis,” I summoned the curiosity (actually, the courage) to Google, “multiple myeloma.” The online Oxford definition squares with what my oncologist told me at the outset: “A malignant tumor of the bone marrow.” Elsewhere on the internet, I read that the disease is “rare,” with only 200,000 …
AUGUST 10, 2022 – Like Tony the Tiger in the old Frosted Flakes TV commercials, I feel G-g-g-g-r-r-r-e-e-a-t! Yet the feeling gnaws at me: If I feel so great, why must I soon feel so “crappy”? I refer to my upcoming cancer treatment, of which you’re about to read a lot—assuming you’ll follow my blog. …
AUGUST 9, 2022 – Six months ago, the big news was Russia’s unprovoked invasion of Ukraine. Wall-to-wall coverage of the ensuing crimes against humanity riveted our eyes, ears, hearts, and minds 24/7 . . . until . . . the shoot-up of the store in Buffalo, followed soon thereafter by the mind-numbing, heart-splitting murder of …
AUGUST 8, 2022 – (Cont.) Seventh grade took me to Anoka Junior High on the other side of town and a block south of the most happening part of Main Street. Boys who’d attended Lincoln Elementary added a whole new dimension to “cool”—manifest in their . . . shoes: English walkers, English “boots,” Clark suede …
AUGUST 7, 2022 – Blogger’s note: Because “I’m late, I’m late for a very important date,” I’ve had to defer until tomorrow, the second part of “Men’s Shoes.” Don’t worry, however. The piece is already in the (shoe) bag. Also, for today’s post, I’ve given myself special dispensation and lifted my self-imposed limit on the …
AUGUST 6, 2022 – I once read that “shoes make the man.” Throughout life I’ve observed this fashion principle in practice. The first example was my dad. He owned several pairs of high-end dress shoes—shells and wingtips—and at an early age I noticed his treads more than his threads; doubtless because at two, I stood …