“We have the beam!” That’s what you want to hear as you lie strategically motionless, no matter the mysterious and random  itches demanding scratch on your face, arms, chest, or wherever. Overall, radiation treatment is painless – more of a mental challenge if you allow it. Yes, the beams are not necessarily healthy rays of light but still a necessary evil In combating those demonic carcinogens lurking inside the holy cavities of your body’s temple.

That said, yesterday was special. The amazing radiology tech staff at Mayo gave me the opportunity to play my own tunes during treatment. Catering to my mood and iambic energies, I chose an album I have been religiously listening to and embracing for several decades. A lyrical soundtrack that has followed and guided me throughout multiple stages of my life’s evolution; Kind of Blue by Miles Davis. Although I never was sufficiently fortunate to see him play with his legendary quintets, I did have the great honor to witness multiple live performances with his modern and exceptional young electric bands. I still vividly recall my own voltaic goosebumps when this mythical African God graced the stage and magically summoned his legendary chords.

Ba dup, … ba da da da da da da da, … ba dup. How many times and it still elevates the mind and soul? The beam was eagerly whining in the background but Miles had center stage. And it didn’t hurt I was cruising on Benadryl from my earlier chemo treatment.

As I lay on the table surrounded by monstrous technical marvels of science, I was happy. Content. Even serene.  And yes, certainly at peace with the challenging world that surrounded me. Kind of Blue and its evocative power showcased for me how the poetry of music could transcend, or at least reflect thoughtfully on my, or anyone’s fantastic voyage.