Original anecdotes, commentary, rumination, and occasional pontification.
OCTOBER 2, 2022 – What a turnaround—so to speak—a single rotation of the earth can make. Today, the morning sun said to me, “Smile, you fool, and I’ll smile with you!” So I did, and Helios kept his word. Feeling much better physically—and therefore, mentally—I took advantage of the fine weather and went for a …
SEPTEMBER 22, 2022 – After crossing a whitewater stream, today I reached the opposite, “30-day” shore. My feet are wet, but I’m now standing and admiring terra firma. In this achievement I find relief. The hiking path ahead follows the winding brook, yet I’m confident my course will remain on solid ground. I turn, then, …
SEPTEMBER 20, 2022 – Soon after I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma last January, I started regular online sessions with an excellent therapist. In today’s session I described recent anxieties: e.g. What if Wednesday brings such severe conditions that piloting the boat to the landing two miles away turns unduly treacherous? What if the new …
SEPTEMBER 19, 2022 – (Cont.) At this late hour, I feel a bit like one of the running marathon finishers holding onto my silver space blanket with one hand and a cup of water in the other, as I stagger toward the heap of plastic bags with my race number on the outside and a …
SEPTEMBER 18, 2022 – (Cont.) Today marks Day 26 of my bone marrow transplant “marathon,” but as Yogi Berra famously said, “The game ain’t over ’til it’s over,” and to remind my readers, a marathon is 26.2 miles long. Accordingly, the finish line is an all-critical 385 yards—some 300 strides—beyond the 26-mile marker. As I …
SEPTEMBER 17, 2022 – (Cont.) Today marks the 25th mile of my bone marrow transplant marathon. As a professor said at the outset of my second year of law school, “Now you’ll finish whether you like it or not.” His point to us students was that we now had such a vested interest in our …
SEPTEMBER 16, 2022 – (Cont.) Late in my dream sequence last night appeared a garbage container. Yes, a large, plastic garbage container like the ones that line our alley on garbage pick-up day, which happened to be today. The refuse receptacle was the sole object of the dream, and it was a veritable wreck. A …
SEPTEMBER 15, 2022 – Blogger’s note: Photo credit to my cousin, Russ Gordon, who, coincidentally, sent me the image early this morning–from Zermatt, Switzerland. (Cont.) Today I hiked a mile to my scale model of Switzerland—Como Golf Course in St. Paul—and from the summit of “St. Moritz,” admired the distinctive profile of the “Matterhorn.” It was …
SEPTEMBER 14, 2022 – (Cont.) This morning I entered a room of our house and discovered a patch of sunshine on the old, oak floor. This unexpected burst of light lifted my spirits and renewed my energy. In the reigning silence I heard my father’s voice. “The sun is the source of all life on …
SEPTEMBER 13, 2022 – (Cont.) The dream last night must’ve been triggered by yesterday’s appointment with Dr. O’Leary, “BMT doc of the month.” I’d met the good doctor on the day of my “chemo-blast.” Back then, Dr. O’Leary, a bit of a killjoy though a life-long downhill skier, had told me I’d have to give …
SEPTEMBER 12, 2022 – (Cont.) Given the number of blood test results I’ve viewed recently, I’ve gained a new appreciation for precision. Hemoglobin of 10.0, compared to 9.5 the day before, for example; and platelets of 147 vs. 98. Or the nurse’s expertise in clearing my port line, completing the task faster than I can …
SEPTEMBER 11, 2022 – (Cont.) After nurse Laura read my numbers from this morning’s lab report, she extended her hand and said, “Congratulations!” (“Don’t worry,” she added. “I’ve already washed my hands 5,000 times today, but there are plenty of hand sanitizers on your way out.”) She was one of the veterans of the BMT …
SEPTEMBER 10, 2022 – (Cont.) On the “work-up” days that preceded my BMT (bone marrow transplant), I noticed patients in various stages of their own procedures. Some of the people looked drawn and frail, as they sat in clinic wheelchairs, waiting for their appointments—blood draws, infusions, provider consults. I worried that one day soon, I’d …
SEPTEMBER 9, 2022 – (Cont.) We had to arise at an ungodly hour again this morning for my appointment, but the effort was worth it: my white blood cell count had rocketed to 5.5 and with it, the all-important neutrophil level had blasted all the way to 3.5 from yesterday’s 2.2. For a nurse, I …
SEPTEMBER 8, 2022 – (Cont.) Today’s 6:15 a.m. appointment at the “combination clinic – positive reinforcement center” revealed a jump in my hemoglobin to 9.3 (two days ago it stood at 6.9), to which the P.A. remarked, “Are you trying to show off?” The all-important neutrophil count was up to 2.2 (from 1.9, yesterday; zero …
SEPTEMBER 7, 2022 – (Cont.) For me, the past 24 hours have been packed with deep emotion. When I put my head down on my hospital bed at 11:00 last night, I was filled with amorphous trepidation, the Ativan taken a half hour earlier having had little effect. My sleep through the night, interrupted by …
SEPTEMBER 6, 2022 – (Cont.) At the outset of my current expedition, marathon, trip across the ocean, I’d formed four mental linear graphs by which to mark my progress: 14-days; 20-days; 30-days; and 100-days. Others exist beyond, of course—180-days, a year out, two years, and so on. But for now, in the midst of the …
SEPTEMBER 5, 2022 – (Cont.) “My rash is so gross,” I said to Kristie, my nurse again today, “I can’t stand to see myself in the mirror.” “As a science person,” she said, “I don’t see gross. I see science.” And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what distinguishes me, the “grossed-out” patient, from these incredible …
SEPTEMBER 4, 2022 – (Cont.) When my mother got older she became obsessed (apparently) about her kids being rash. “Don’t do anything rash,” was a regular part of her farewell after every visit at “the home.” I won’t speak for my generally well-behaved sisters, but I’ll readily acknowledge that at an earlier stage of life, …
SEPTEMBER 3, 2022 – (Cont.) It’s not what I’d pictured. The hospital room, I mean, where most likely I’ll be until Tuesday—Day 14. It’s a luxury suite with a commanding view of Mississippi River, as it wends its way between Minneapolis and St. Paul. If I’m still a little seasick, I’m in the best care …
SEPTEMBER 2, 2022 – (Cont.) Time. In any test of endurance, time is front and center. Of all aspects of our existence, time is what best defines us. How do we use it or waste it? How do we embrace its rewards, and how do we respond to its ravages? How do we cope with …
SEPTEMBER 1, 2022 – (Cont.) When one is far out at sea, beyond the reference points of land, each day mimics another, except for the clockwork and declination of sun, moon and stars. This morning I slipped out of bed extra early for a 6:15 appointment with the Angels of the University. In the glow …
AUGUST 31, 2022 – (Cont.) Day 8. Like a sea of porpoises, arching in and out of the water, waves rise, crest, and fall relentlessly toward their destination beyond the horizon. Day and night, they carry my plucky little vessel forward across the boundless sea. Now, in the moment, with the sun in my face …
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 …