A PERFECT DINNER

I don’t do well at dinner parties. I think it’s partly related to not knowing which fork to use for the salad and to my feeling of desperation as I try to make small talk while the food goes cold.

My latest foray into the world of linen napkins and fine china was last Sunday night. Our gracious hostess Andrea let her guests sit randomly around the dining room table in her seventh floor condo, probably the only haphazard thing about her plan for the evening. Three of her five invitees had been touched by cancer in the past year. Besides myself, there was Andy, who had a facial tumour that required thirty seven rounds of radiation to arrest; and Robert, a gentleman who had just begun radiation treatments for a cancer in his leg.

Needless to say, the dinner conversation was rated 18A. Andy explained that by the end of his seven week radiation regime, he not only lost his taste buds but his appetite for life. Now thirty pounds lighter than he was a year ago, he had the lean Bryan Adams look of a man half his age.

Robert, a Warren Buffett clone, was somewhat reticent during the seafood appetizers. Andrea had explained when she invited us that Robert, a jovial fellow by nature, was struggling to come to grips with his cancer. Over the main course of chicken marsala, asparagus and wild rice, he began to open up about his condition. An engineer by profession, Robert delighted in relating some of the technical aspects of his treatment. Talk of radiation tattoos reminded me that I had escaped that infamous part of the cancer counter attack.

At one point, sensing that things were getting just a bit too intense, I blurted out of left field,
“Say, has anyone seen the new iphone app that can guesstimate your age using your photo?
Now I was the one encouraging small talk.

After a brief respite, the conversation again returned to cancer topics like diet, doctors, and diagnoses. Robert began to speak with his guarded optimism about his treatment and, by the time the dessert of shortbreads and fruit had arrived, he began asking Andy and me all the right questions about his new battle. Our dinner party had become the cancer support group Andrea had intended.

The meal was capped with a few coffees and herbal teas. Not only had Andrea orchestrated the entire evening with grace and charm, she had given her friend Robert new hope for the future. The warm hug he gave her at the end of the meal brought a touching ending to a perfect dinner.

As Terry and I drove home, I realized that Mike 2.0 had changed on the outside as well as the inside. I began to comprehend that others were beginning to view me as a cancer survivor; as an information source; and, as a testament to the amazing new treatments that are now available to cancer patients.

It feels good being a poster boy for fighting cancer….especially after a great meal.