On Vacation in Charm City

In an uneventful flourish, they put 20 minutes of toxins into Jon and sent him on his way.  So far his body has not noticed that there is something amiss.  He does not feel nauseous (they put anti-nausea meds in the line today) or uncomfortable yet. Tomorrow is the big day and we hope it will be uneventful too.

We met Amber, the N.P. whose specialty is autologous ("auto") transplants. She will be watching over Jon for the next few weeks. She told him that some people, unpredictably, have no reaction at all to the whole process.  We doubt that will be the case with him since he has already proven that there are many ways to get sidetracked.  She also said that most people end up getting admitted to the hospital with a fever somewhere along the way. He is prepared for that, and will not think of that as a sign of failure.

But I didn't hang out at the IPOP in the morning, I went to the grocery store. This is noteworthy because I cannot remember the last time I went shopping by myself. It has been years. Jon does almost all the shopping for us, and other people have been filling in.  I went to look for some bare necessities for a very small scale seder.  As it happened, Harris Teeter had not one item that was specifically for Passover (the lady pointed me to the gluten free aisle).  But I had fun piecing it together. Rebecca will bring matzah from Virginia tomorrow. It was actually quite entertaining to be in an American supermarket (I only go shopping in foreign countries). What a vast array of choices! So much excess! For some reason the checkout lady asked me if I had purchased any organic produce. I said, yes, I did. I wonder if that is their method of market research.

Then, because it was such a beautiful day and Jon was still feeling perfectly fine, we went to a big city park and had a picnic.  We ate very basic sandwiches so we would be allowed to get ice cream. We walked to a local ice cream shop and treated ourselves (often something we intend to do on trips, but fail to locate the right sort of place). As we sat at the picnic table, Jon read about the Ukrainian Catholic church on the corner that looks like a mosque, complete with golden domes and turrets.  It was built in the late 20th century. 

This park, Patterson Park, is the same one that I walked around in during our last time in Baltimore. And what I think I notice that is different today is that almost all the park patrons were white or Hispanic, not black. Eleven years ago I remember thinking I was the only non-black person at the park. This is some quick gentrification, if my memory is not just on cruise control. Anyway, today there were lots of dog-walkers and children and athletic types.

As you can see, we are on a forced vacation in a destination that was not chosen by us and we are trying to live in these moments before Jon begins to notice that his blood counts are plummeting. So far he is oblivious.