Journeys 3.1

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.

Plenty of empty bike racks today as I walked in the rain past Goldie Gopher on my way to yet another scan at the U. I had decided I didn’t want a wet stripe up my back.

At Boom Island on our Sunday walk, teamsters were holding a picnic. Amy Klobuchar, our US Senator and hopefully soon-to-be governor, had just given a speech.

Cycled with a friend around Railroad Island, a St. Paul neighborhood hemmed in by train tracks. An Italian restaurant, an Italian market, and a supermercado highlighted its strong immigrant ties. Riding along mostly quiet residential streets, we passed the oldest brick house in St. Paul and stopped by an urban farm holding an open house.

Popped into Lunds & Byerlys to pick up a can of butter beans for a paella I’m making this evening to celebrate Friday. On the way out, I couldn’t find my sunglasses. Just glad I didn’t ask an assistant if they’d seen a pair of sunglasses. The answer would’ve been “yes.” Finally found them when I tried to put on my cycle helmet.

For 20 minutes I lie completely still, in a lie-flat seat on an A350, seven miles above the Bering Sea. Outside, it’s night: pitch black below, devoid of any lights from ships or the scattered islands far below. As the radiologist opens my bone scan, searching for points of light, I wish him that same quiet journey.

Arrived home to the smell of baking biscotti.