By now you know that my book “Love Laughter and Losing My Keys: A Boomer’s Survival Guide” will be out next week. So I’d best be about surviving this stubborn cancer bugger lest my book title go down the drain with my book sales. The big question is NOW WHAT?
When I glanced at my DayTimer this a.m. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It is August! That’s almost fall! I LOVE fall and I’m determined to make this the best month of my life (which just got a little longer thanks to a clean CT scan).
Coach potatoes, listen up. I’m about to deliver the most important news of the decade and it will make you happy, I promise. I’m looking for a workout partner. And, trust me, this new workout will be a breeze.
The latest findings suggest you may be able to strengthen your muscles by simply thinking about it! I say hooray for this research which will save me a lot of time and sweat from now on as I put myself through my (mental) paces while sipping my morning coffee.
I bet there are doctors and nurses in this world who would like to wring the necks of patients who walk around sick and complaining to anyone who will listen for days, then wait until the middle of the night to seek medical help.
I confess, I’m one of those people. But my creeping hypochondria got the best of me during the midnight hour and I sought refuge in that scary place on Hospital Road. The outcome was better than I could have imagined.
I peered in the mirror this a.m. for the first time in about eleven days and almost swallowed a tube of lipstick.
Who was that hollow-eyed scary looking imposter sitting in my makeup chair? Can someone please call an exorcist?
After peering more closely I recognized that tale-tell chicken pox scar from the 50s. Good golly. It was I.