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​It was raining, so I walked over to the U. I’ve spent about 30 hours there this week, and my commitment continues in four-week units, depending on the results. At a minimum, I’m helping cancer research, but I’m also hoping to help myself by kicking my daemon further down the road.

Arrived today: silicone food containers. Excruciating pain from a tiny shard of glass embedded in my foot from our old glass set brought me to Urgent Care twice. Although these containers are expensive, I don’t expect them to generate any Urgent Care copays. They’re oven-safe to 450°F, so I’ll just need to watch out for burns instead.

Delicious! The study nurse brought in a fan and pointed it right at me. I’d arrived overheated and soaked after a steamy 16-miler complete with a breakfast stop at Lake Harriet with Dwight and a huge rubber duckie.

Spent a full day being observed for my second dose of the study drug: plenty of time to finish The Traveler, a biography of polymath George Forster (ethnographer, travel writer, political radical, …). Aged 18, he joined Captain Cook’s second voyage. He defied prevailing Enlightenment thought by rejecting human rankings and hierarchies, maintaining that being a good or great person “is not bound to any particular place on Earth or to a privileged tribe.” Amen to that.

Got my first dose of the study drug, amB7-H3 TriKE. Here, tubes are lined up for one draw (the second of seven draws) as they monitor me over several hours. All of these are strictly for research, so the results won’t show up in my online medical record. *Inspired by a line from the classic 1961 BBC television episode “The Blood Donor” starring British comedian Tony Hancock.

Planned my next LEGO Technic adventure. Ordered components, including 100 grey hubs, 60 black modified triangle liftarms, and 8 white geared clutches. Even with a substantial collection, a single project can easily demand dozens of the same piece: there’s always something missing.

At Sip Coffee Bar, the gregarious sculptor Zoran Mojsilov introduced himself and sat down beside me. He’d noticed me taking in some of his works in progress in his yard across the street. He asked if any stood out, and I mentioned one. He is constantly working on commissions, and I see his sculptures around town. He referred to us both as “grey-heads” as we chatted about the Old World, compared notes on Yugoslavia in the 1970s, and agreed socialism can be good.

Posted “Helping research, helping myself.” Click through for a link. Reflecting on a clinical study I’m starting on Monday got me thinking about Britain’s Common Cold Unit (1946–1990) where people volunteered to get the cold or ‘flu.

After a cycle ride and cuppa with my friend, I made my way through Seward, a neighborhood where it was no surprise every stop sign had been carefully changed to “STOP ICE” and lawns carried community-minded messages. I couldn’t stop myself thinking administration officials must have never read the Beatitudes despite claiming their love of the Bible. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness… Blessed are the peacemakers.”

It seemed safe enough to ignore the diversion signs while running errands. The 20-year-old Blue Line LRT is closed for seven weeks for major maintenance, including replacing some track and upgrading signals. I sometimes take my bike on the train to reach further-out trailheads, and it’s our go-to route to the airport.

Two pedicabs passed me on the Stone Arch Bridge. Beyond, two young people were creating content, presumably for social media, while one filmed as the other leapt across the path. Fundraisers had set up a table and were trying to attract the attention of passersby as I pressed down harder on the pedals. Off the end of the bridge, the usual Jehovah’s Witness stand was set up with two in attendance. We didn’t make eye contact, so I didn’t give my usual cheery greeting.

Put on one of my “ramen tees,” which still bears the faint evidence of previous splashes that no amount of washing will completely hide. Then, I headed over to the U for a morning of pokes, stabs, and staying motionless for 25 minutes. Afterward, a bowl of tonkotsu udon took me straight to a happy place where everything is all right.

Viewed downtown through smoky air on our usual Sunday morning walk. American and Canadian firefighters are working side-by-side to control blazes in Minnesota’s Boundary Waters, even as the president threatens to impose tariffs on Canada over their forest fire smoke, a power he actually lacks. Meanwhile, the administration is busy rebranding terms like “climate change,” canceling wind farm developments, and promoting the construction of new coal-fired power plants.

Cycled along a hydroelectric plant service road just below where we live, an area I’ve rarely visited. The 1903 red brick building across the river was originally a power plant for the Minneapolis streetcar system, but today it serves as the University of Minnesota’s Southeast Steam Plant. It heats nearly every building on the Minneapolis campuses and generates 20% of their electricity.

There were no takers for pre-show drinks outside, where it was a sweltering 90-plus degrees, but inside Orchestra Hall, the AC was doing a grand job. Following medical scans this afternoon, with more lined up for Monday, a glass of wine and an escape into the world of Britten, Beethoven, and Schumann were most welcome.

Walked home from the U through smoke after consenting to a Phase 1 clinical trial. If tests over the next week continue to qualify me, I’ll receive a “Tri-Specific Killer Engager” (!) immunotherapy agent that may harness my immune system to kill tumor cells. I’ve been on Phase 2 and 3 trials; this one is more experimental, but I’m hopeful it will kick the can further down the road.