Boundaries are getting a lot of buzz lately. That’s great because learning how to set, enforce, and respect personal boundaries can be a big part of healthy relationships. Yet, all this talk sometimes skips over some important basics. I’ve been thinking about this concept in a slightly new way. Typically, I talk about setting a […]
My mom died 34 years ago today. She was 48. I was 13. This year, I’m 47. It’s my last year to be younger than she was when she died. Those words keep repeating in my head: My last year. My last year. At my mom’s funeral, everyone commented on how young she had been.
When I was a baby and first tried solid foods, my face swelled alarmingly. My small-town pediatrician recommended putting me in the hospital for force feeding until I stopped rejecting food. This did not sound right to my parents. They took me to The Cleveland Clinic where doctors said I had food allergies and needed
Riding in a hot air balloon wasn’t exactly on my bucket list, but I’ve always liked the idea of maybe trying it someday. Someday recently happened when a friend invited me and Peter to join her and her husband on a ride to celebrate her birthday. Accepting the invitation came with some hesitancy… it is
I have endometriosis. Or so I’m told. I guess we’ll have absolute certainty on that when I have surgery later this summer, since surgery is the only official way to diagnosis it. But it’s gotten bad enough for the lesions to show up on CT scans and MRIs, so my doc says that’s pretty definitive.
