CR 163: Infusion 20, Thanks giving

Another two weeks, another infusion. Since my appointment with Dr. Hahn was at 9 am, I left my home at 7 am, not knowing what rush-hour traffic would be like on the dreaded Washington Beltway. Today it was fine - no delays - so I arrived at 8:15 am. To my surprise, I was immediately called in for vitals, then my checkup with Dr. Hahn. I noted that I still had occasional itching around my neck and scalp, but not as much on my legs. My rash seems to wander around from week to week. I said how I had noticed that a seborrheic keratoses on my cheek (covered by my beard) recently seemed to have grown in size. Dr. Hahn doubted that that was related to the nivolumab, but offered a referral to dermatology to check it out. Everything else was routine - my labs were fine, as usual, and we're staying the course with treatments for the foreseeable future.

I was done by 8:30 am. Since my infusion was not scheduled until 10:30 am, I went to the Hopkins cafeteria and got an omelet made to order. The chef must have thought I looked wan, because I got a 3 pound monstrosity. I managed to do my duty, and needed no lunch. My infusion once again went much faster now that I do not need to provide vitals at the start, midpoint, and end.

During my infusion, I continued to devour N. K. Jemisin's new novel, The Fifth Season. I picked it up on Monday and finished it this afternoon. It's a remarkably original work that has earned a place on a number of best book lists of 2015. I'm now forced to wait for the next two books of the trilogy. Before that, I read The Wright Brothers by David McCullough, which was outstanding. Disappointing reads of late include Grisham's Rogue Lawyer (another lazy tell don't show polemic) and Ernest Cline's Armada (as unoriginal and boring as his Ready Player One was innovative and satisfying). I'm now reading The Only Ones by Carola Dibbell. Other books on my nightstand include Aurora by Kim Stanley Robinson and Geraldine Brooks' March.

On Thanksgiving day, my sons and I played in our church congregation's annual Turkey Bowl: two simultaneous games of touch football, one for young kids under age 12 or so, and the other for the older teens and adults. I think I was the oldest player on the field, and certainly was the one who ran the least. I mostly stood on the line of scrimmage, tried to block the occasional blitzer, and watch my boys and many friends have a good time. I thought of how at the Turkey Bowl four years earlier, I had just learned that I had bladder cancer. At the end of that game I walked with one of my good friends who was then serving as the leader of our lay ministry and told him about my diagnosis. His stunned reaction gave me the first insight that my journey might affect a circle much larger than my family. Over the past four years, I have gained a far deeper understanding of joy and sorrow than I previously could imagine.

The Sunday prior to this Thanksgiving, I was asked to give the opening prayer in our congregation's principal meeting. I concentrated on giving thanks for all the good in our lives. No requests, no favors, just gratitude. I spoke from the heart and recall very little of what I said. A number of people commented to me that they appreciated my focus on thanks giving. One member of the congregation later emailed:

I didn't want this day to pass by without thanking you for being you. Your prayer today in Sacrament Meeting touched  my heart deeply, and opened my soul to receive the words that were spoken in such a manner that I consider today to be a watershed moment in my life, and a day that I will reflect upon for the rest of my life. You and your family have been such a great influence in my life, and have given me joy, inspiration,  a lot of love, and a lot of laughter. Thank you, dear friend, for giving me insight and great hope. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

 I have found that a life filled with gratitude is a life filled with joy. And a life of joy is a life that brings us nearer to God.