What Counts as Good News in Gonda 10

A conversation in Gonda 10, a rough week in world politics, and how chemo, retirement savings, and the stock market all collide with the question of what kind of future we’re rooting for.

Today I sat near a well-dressed man in his 60s while waiting for my infusion in Mayo Gonda 10. He was on the phone with someone he couldn’t understand, and he was polite about it, but of course his voice was audible. All he wanted to know was whether MSP had their rental car return in the airport.

Since I knew the answer — both from experience and a quick check on Google to be sure — when he got off the phone I leaned over a bit and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to listen in, but there are clear traffic signs as you’re driving into Terminal 1 to direct you to the rental drop-off.” He thanked me and then moved to the chair next to mine.

He had bags under his eyes, but in Gonda 10 we all do. We’re all there for some form of chemo. He said he’d had a tough week and had driven six hours each way to his lake home in Otter Tail County. He normally flies in and out of Fargo to get to his winter home in Vegas, but yesterday he reached his lake home and realized he’d forgotten his infusion. So he’d had to make new flight arrangements.

He paused for a second, sort of shrugged, and said, “Well, at least the stock market’s up.”

I love talkers. Love them. I usually prompt them just enough to keep them going. He told me he’s an executive client at Mayo, so that includes the physical he’d had this week. He loves Mayo, especially Mayo Rochester. Phoenix would be closer, but he thinks Rochester is better.

What he really appreciates, he said, is the way Minnesota state government has supported and invested in Mayo, especially all the new construction and updates. So many state governments provide tax breaks for new athletic stadiums, and for a state to pour money into Mayo is rare. It’s good for people, because they also accept Medicare, unlike in Phoenix, he said. (The details about Medicare are more complicated than that, but I didn’t interrupt.)

His comments about the state investing in care instead of stadiums stuck with me. But that line about the stock market stayed with me even more.

Here’s where my week looked different from his.

When he said he was glad the stock market went up, I flinched a bit. I had spent the weekend unsure if I’d even make it to my appointment because of our president’s communication over Easter weekend. My anxiety started with that profane post on Easter Sunday, then ramped up after the Tuesday morning post threatening the existence of an entire civilization.

I was in a daze for several days. Even if the threat was empty, as I strongly believed it was, living in the U.S. right now while undergoing treatment for high-risk multiple myeloma and preparing for retirement is surreal. My future is already so uncertain and unpredictable. I’m counting weeks and lab values and savings, trying to imagine a retirement I might or might not reach.

Meanwhile, our president is actively working to destroy whole countries.

And yet, at the same time, another story was unfolding on my screen.

In the midst of this latest weekend turmoil, we got to watch the Artemis II crew share vivid, detailed video and photos of the moon, earth, and sun.

Our glowing Earth from Artemis II. This is the world I’m counting on, between chemo and retirement math. Credit: NASA/Reid Wiseman

We are looking at earth, and it’s our earth filled with humans and monkeys named Punch and happy little goats who dance to “The Little Goatherd” in their backyard. Our earth is full of humanity and animals and flora.

It is hard to hold those two realities at once: the casual talk of destruction, and the fragile blue planet hanging there with Punch and the goats and the chemo patients in Gonda 10.

But the stock market. At least it’s up.

So all the way home, driving through the southern Minnesota prairie, I thought about his comment. Maybe he was being sarcastic. What he shared with me about the state supporting and investing in a service instead of a sports stadium didn’t clearly reveal his politics. And maybe when he said that “it’d been a tough week,” he did mean the world was in disorder. Maybe it wasn’t just about his health.

Or maybe he meant exactly what he seemed to mean: that he was relieved the stock market was up.

That’s where a long drive can get a person thinking. We’d both had “a tough week,” but we might have been measuring toughness with different rulers. He seemed kind and decent and caring, and perhaps it’s me who needs to reframe this a bit. It could be that a strong U.S. stock market really does make people around the world safer in the long run.

Selfishly, as I prepare for retirement, I do want the stock market to be strong. I want that for myself and for everyone trying to imagine a future.

Ultimately, though, I want the world to be strong. I want us to support space travel, orangutan and gorilla and bonobo rescues, investments in cancer research, public education for all, technology that shares other perspectives from people around the world. And, of course, healthcare, childcare, climate action, and poverty reduction.

Both can be true. Both should be true.

I want the market to be up — and the world to stay here long enough for all of us in Gonda 10 to have something to retire into.