Journeys 3.1

It wasn’t a protest as I cycled past people outside the U’s ice arena holding signs. It’s Welcome Week for new students, and the signs were meant to group everyone by department. Looking at them, I find it hard to believe I was ever that young when I was a fresher back in the UK.

I’m the mysterious gentleman lurking in the grimy Pedicord Apartments, part of the permanent collection at the U’s Weisman Art Museum. If you lean in to any apartment door, you can eavesdrop on what’s going on inside. ​I’m between appointments. I’ve just had the most thorough eye exam ever, including a 3D digital model of the inside of my eyes ordered by the study, hence the dark glasses.

Dinner at Forgotten Star Brewing Co., beer and burgers, sitting outside at a picnic table with friends. Life’s good.

Cycled in to the U for week six of the study. Being in the study means receiving an unsustainable level of healthcare: extensive lab workup up to three times a week, time with a physician or PA up to three times a week, blood pressure checked up to ten times a day, weekly ECGs, and scans every 8 weeks.

My nephews would’ve enjoyed scrambling on the climbing net at the foot of the beacon… maybe a dozen years ago. The beacon leans out over the Mississippi at this overlook in North Minneapolis, a short ride from our home. This was my first outing in three days: the study treatment has kept me laid low, which means it’s doing something! It felt good to be out among people clearly enjoying the beautiful day.

Perhaps this is why most people do not automate their homes! Today, I fixed a few glitches in our “smart home.” For example, when a particular scene (a group of lights) was selected, it turned on, shut back off, and then turned back on again. Generally, the smarts are hidden; light switches, for example, look and operate just like regular switches. We do like the extra layers of control, such as turning off all the lights by voice command as we leave our home.

Lazy day following another energy-sapping round of shots this week. While Dwight cooked, I read, napped, and looked forward to dinner. Everything smells wonderful, including fresh-baked focaccia and lentil soup. He made enough for tomorrow, too, when he sees his mom for lunch.