In a time where so many, including myself, have secluded at home to ward off our modern-day plague, I’m living my brains out, cancer be damned.

I’ve had years of practice working out my life balance – measuring health needs against my zest for living. As a result, thanks to many, including possibly the almighty, I continue to have healthy intervals between lab tests, CT scans, surgery, and chemo, the most dreaded of all. During those intervals, I’m on full speed ahead. So, I barely notice that other plague out there, the one that interferes with our human need for the tenderness of touching, breathing each other’s air.

Last week I lay on the CT table, listening to that insipid voice recording, “breath in, hold it……exhale.” I tried to estimate how many wretched CTs I’ve had over the past thirteen years – close to thirty…? How is it that the testing never seems to get easier? How many blood tests have I had? Hundreds, thousands? It’s always impossible, waiting for results.

We have scheduled a half dozen trips the first half of this year to stay warm, for memorable family times, and to have at least one more real adventure. I’m almost through the revision of my second novel and daring to dream of an agent who will help me publish, And I have a consulting gig that’s grown into a part-time job – a perfect cap off to a multi-decade career in healthcare. And did I mention a seventh grandchild on the way – the cherry on life’s sundae.

So, I continue to live my brains out because living is what it’s all about, what I do best. Investing my energy in my heart, brain, and time above the grass; hoping to continue for as long as possible.