Early this morning, I took doggo for our usual morning walk around the little park near our house. On the way, I spied an old used paper mask on the grassy strip next to the street. I felt vaguely guilty, because I used to occasionally …
She was a 39 year old woman with cancer, originally diagnosed six years ago*. As I looked over her chart notes, I was particularly struck by one entry, and I read it over several times: “Patient had a significant disruption in treatment due to an …
I’m surrounded. Our kitchen table is strewn with piles of my old journals, many years’ worth of writing workshop printouts, and copies of every academic literary magazine that ever published my stuff. It’s a lot of my old writing, including some fairly well-developed stories and …
“Sometimes, late at night, you can still hear the moans of the poor souls who died tortured deaths in the old ICU…” Dr. Gabaldi was a well-liked teaching attending who enjoyed entertaining us with his ghost stories. It wasn’t hard to come up with a …
It was a sunny spring day in 1995, and my spirit was about to be crushed. He was our college health careers advisor, a doctor who didn’t go by ‘Doctor’. Rather, he was ‘Dean’, as in Dean of the Pre-Meds. His office was in one …
It’s not writer’s block… A writer feels like a dormant volcano: the quiet before an eruption of creative energy.
My workdays have been spilling over into my evenings and weekends, folks. There– I said it. I haven’t wanted to admit that I’ve been, well, busy. It started with a couple of large and complex communications projects in late winter, at the same time that …
I’m thrilled to both congratulate and feature hubby Bob Socci, who ran the 125th Boston Marathon last week as a member of the Doug Flutie Jr. Foundation for Autism charity team. We supported him all along the way: Over months as he trained and raised …
Yesterday we awoke to a plain old March Saturday, sunny but cool, rain expected overnight. The newspaper featured all the same depressing news and then some. There were no holidays or travel to prepare for, nor workday overflow to catch up on. We had no …
We were at Cancun Airport’s Gate 11, waiting to board our flight home. Hubby and I couldn’t ignore the alarming news alerts popping up on our phones every few minutes, and the kids noticed. “So what’s going on?” asked our son. Up to that point, …