OCTOBER 28, 2026 – Nearly a year ago, I experienced some anxious days after undergoing a biopsy. I’d prepared myself for negative—er, positive—test results that would lead to an array of choices to keep myself alive and kicking. As things played out, however, the upshot was positive—er, negative—and the good Dr. Lukasewycz was pleased to give me a double-thumbs-up. “I’m happy to say,” he said, “that there’s no sign of [the C-word].” He released me on my own recognizance, coupled with a six-month lease renewal. There was a spring in my step as I exited the clinic.
At the end of the lease renewal period, I put up a bad number; not something a guy wants to do if he’s angling for another lease renewal. To my doc’s credit, as it turned out, he gave me another three-month lease renewal, but with the caveat that if the bad number was repeated or worsened, well—no further lease renewal without undergoing another biopsy and potentially, big increase in rent.
In the run-up to today’s appointment, I prepared myself for another bad number. As I learned to do long ago, however, I didn’t look at lab results without adult supervision. I didn’t make an exception today.
As it turned out, there was no need to make an exception, no need to look at “the number,” and simply no need to worry.
“The number is down by over 10 points,” said Dr. L with glee. My first reaction: Lease extension! And sure enough, after explanation and a bit of discussion, he extended the lease, this time, by nine months.
He then asked me about how I was doing on the MM front—my other “lease situation.” I explained my changeover (after my upcoming appointment with the miracle-worker Dr. Kolla) to the department head, the inimitable Dr. Balkrishna N. Jahagirdar, or simply “Bal” as he’s called by everyone who knows him. Dr. Lukasewycz affirmed everything I said about the group. And he agreed: Bal walks on water.
Dr. L was on schedule at the outset of my appointment, and now he was slightly ahead. This gave us a chance to visit for a few minutes—about the Boundary Waters; about my tree garden—in which he expressed particular interest, since he’s launched his own smaller “tree garden,” having recently ordered several hundred white pine seedlings from the DNR nursery. I shared thoughts and information about bud-capping, fence-building, and cage construction. By the close of our conversation, each of us was in a very sunny mood—though we shared a degree of pessimism about this year’s ski season, given the effects of El Ñino.
At the scheduling desk on my way out, I yielded my place to a much older gentleman in a wheelchair pushed by a woman whom I assumed was his daughter, judging by her interactions with the man. He didn’t look well; he didn’t look as though he had many, if any, lease extensions in front of him. In fact, right then and there, he slipped down and nearly out of his wheelchair.
I stepped quickly to his side to try lifting him back up into the wheelchair. But he was gangly, unable to support himself, and he seemed to be tangled up with the wheelchair. Just then (before clinic staff could jump to), another gentleman stepped up to the plate, wrapped his arms around the old man’s midriff and gently but firmly pulled him back into place. I moved the man’s feet onto the rests. He was too out of it to say thanks. His daughter, I thought, was too exhausted to do so. That left me to thank the guy who’d stepped up.
This right guy at the right place at the right time, turned out to be Fred H., an acquaintance of mine—a fellow church member from ancient times whom I hadn’t seen in 20 years. I always liked Fred. We sat on council and committees together. He was reliably kind, cheerful and reliable; he was smart, personable, engaging and had a ready sense of humor. We wound up visiting for 20 minutes, and I learned that he too had been through the healthcare wringer—down at Mayo. But his main doc—just as mine—had origins in India, and Fred thought the world of his walks-on-water miracle worker. We had plenty to share that would never have entered our conversations back in time because ill-health was so far into the future.
As I drove off with my lease extension, I felt re-vitalized. On my way home, I stopped at my usual entry point into Little Switzerland to celebrate by hiking up and down 300 additional vertical feet toward my daily quota of 750.
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© 2026 by Eric Nilsson
