Microblog

Life is a bit more complicated now that I have to be driven everywhere and get dropped off at front doors where I’d normally walk. Lovely lunch with friends at a Hilton (0.6 miles), a beautifully repurposed farm machinery factory, for extreme comfort food: Swedish meatballs, mushroom gravy, lingonberries (mandatory) and horseradish mash. Tonight, Kunene and the King at the Guthrie (0.3 miles), a confrontation between a white and a Black South African.

Probably the best almond croissants in the city, plus steamed pork buns ready for the freezer, all from Trung Nam French Bakery. We met friends at Trung Nam over coffee and croissants. The almond ones are usually gone by mid-morning, so I called in an order yesterday. I love how Vietnamese culture so seamlessly absorbs other traditions, including French and Chinese.

Today I had a SPECT/CT scan. Friday’s Pluvicto infusion attached directly to the tumor, providing enough radiation for today’s imaging. As the drug decays, it emits gamma rays detected by two rotating cameras in the foreground. The scan finishes with a CT from the rear ring, which is merged with the SPECT data to form a 3D image. Pretty neat.

Checked a load of rutabaga, carrots, and parsnips undergoing the Maillard reaction; next up, potatoes. These days, I save cleanup time by only sautéing the onions and meat right in the main cooking pot before the braise.

Forced myself through a gabapentin haze to learn a bit about transmissions. I got hung up on the shift gate, the plate outlining the gear path. The book I was following used a complex, specialized LEGO part that felt contrary to the spirit of building. I decided to assemble it from more basic components instead, pulling from Dwight’s Architecture collection on the left cart. Ultimately, I was defeated by half-stud offsets, so I tore it all back down to try again another day.

For some reason, potato chips with my coffee before an 8:30 a.m. Pluvicto infusion felt mildly rebellious. No lingering guilt.

No walking today, but I did do about 150 steps and an elevator ride to the workout room. For some reason, a lean-forward posture on an exercise bike is fine for a short while. ​I was the only taker; everyone else was either at work or enjoying the beautiful weather outside.

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.

On the way back from a cuppa, my friend asked to be reminded about the red building. I explained it was originally built as a brothel and owned by a woman, which was unusual for the era. Right on the next block, as if to counteract this, we passed a modern building slated for a major remodel to become a Lutheran seminary.

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.

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.

My hiking pole gives me extra stability on walks, but I have a bad habit of leaving it behind, including at home. Today I attached a tracker, so now my watch vibrates if I walk away without it. I posted on social media to see if anyone has a better way to mount it.

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.

Gangs* of wild turkeys at the U believe they own the campus. Today, they were doing very effective traffic-calming duty as we drove back from early morning medical appointments in the rain. (*Yes, that is the correct collective noun.)

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.

On our way home, we stopped south of Duluth at the Purple Car Cafe, which had a fun grade-school vibe with bold colors and handwritten chalkboard signs.