The Great Walk

The Great Walk

I carry in my wallet a picture of a heart: a schematic of my dad’s blockages and remedy shunts. On the back, listed in his own hand, are the dates of his pacemaker operations. It’s a small plastic-coated card, meant as medic alert, the size of Master Card...
The Final Forgiveness: Self

The Final Forgiveness: Self

A year ago, I joined Pinterest, as every aspiring-to-be-published writer was advised, as a component of ‘Platform’ on social media that will advertise. It’s a visual billboard of interests and inclinations, as you proclaim yourself to be. It’s...
No good deed goes unpunished

No good deed goes unpunished

I first heard this statement in the summer of 1997. A wise mentor gave it voice after I’d written a ground-breaking grant and determined to shepherd its project to fruition. Naive person that I was, I learned its lesson hard. Eight years later I was diagnosed...
Open Heart

Open Heart

I’ve just returned from an echocardiogram appointment. The results were reassuring; especially because I am almost exactly one year older than my dad was when he had his first pacemaker installed. My dad died of a broken heart in 2008. The young technician was...
Armed

Armed

Sometimes I feel as if a nurse stapled my heart on my sleeve soon after my birth, where all can see it to harm and hit me up. While their action rips and bruises my heart, I’ve realized at least that my arm is unhurt. I lift it up and wave bye-bye. My legs are...