For some reason, potato chips with my coffee before an 8:30 a.m. Pluvicto infusion felt mildly rebellious. No lingering guilt.
Category: Health
Well, that was fast!
Well, that was fast! This morning, the physical therapist recommended a lumbar roll, so I ordered one on Amazon. Four hours later, it was in the mailroom downstairs at no extra charge. Beyond sitting with this, I’ve got exercises about six times a day and no walking for now, though we decided the 0.2 miles to Maxwell’s Pub for dinner this evening doesn’t count.
Walking in another me’s shoes
Today, as usual, my range was 0.2 miles, just enough to reach Open Book. The kindness of strangers brightens my day, like the young guy who noticed me approaching two sets of doors and turned back to hold both open for me. Seats are always welcome, including this one where I can rest while waiting for the lights to change. I’m certainly gaining insight into the slow-go years, but I’m hoping physical therapy and an MRI will put me back on the path to the go-go years.
Pop-up clinic
Sunday is a day without medical stuff… usually. This morning, our building’s community room was turned into an efficient vaccination clinic where we got our flu and COVID shots. Not so efficient, the pharmacists will be spending their Sunday afternoon manually entering all that insurance information.
One block at a time
Walking is very important to me. This morning, I walked to Open Book for a cuppa and an old-fashioned donut, and in the afternoon, I saw my family medicine physician, each about 0.2 miles from our building. For now, walking 0.2 miles slowly is plenty, made possible by Gabapentin until physical therapy hopefully resolves this. I’m so grateful for my compassionate care team.
Gold Medal Park’s origins
Gold Medal Park was looking very fine today from our home, though it’s a reminder of excessive healthcare profits. It was funded by a former CEO of UnitedHealth, the world’s largest healthcare company, headquartered here in the Twin Cities. When he retired, he walked away with an enormous haul, fueled in part by backdated stock options. Even after repaying roughly $600 million, he had plenty left for local philanthropy. Tomorrow, we sign up for our 2027 health plan through a Minnesota nonprofit, definitely not UnitedHealth.
Waiting for Godot
Existential angst on stage at the Guthrie tonight; existential choices at the oncologist’s office this morning, with Dwight steady at my side through both. A drug will let us kick the can down the road to the next decision point, pretty much promising a normal life for a few more months. Meanwhile, Didi and Gogo remain trapped by inaction, going nowhere beneath that scrawny tree.
Finding good in each day
We had a lovely Japanese dinner at Misono with my sister-in-law and nephew D, catching up on family news and gossip. Nephew C is now in college, and nephew D will be leaving the nest next year. During the meal, a notification popped up on my phone showing that the report from Friday’s PET scan was available. I ignored it until we got home. It’s not good news, but life is good, and we’ll take this one day at a time.
Another step in the journey
I’m familiar with the prep for today’s PSMA PET scan. A technician is about to inject the radioactive tracer, which comes in a heavy radiation-shielded syringe. The tracer binds to a specific antigen on the surface of prostate cancer cells, emitting positrons that the scanner converts into a reasonably detailed image. It’s an expensive test, but I didn’t hesitate to ask for it at this point in my journey, and I’m grateful my insurance agrees.
Extended eye checkup
A pleasant retinal surgeon at the U seemed determined to use every piece of equipment on my eyes, and he had a lot of it. Three hours later, I staggered out and headed home to the sofa. There was a serious purpose to it all: a potential side effect of the cancer study drug is eye damage. Fortunately, my eyes are fine for my age. Meanwhile, I’m off the study, as the drug proved ineffective for me.