“Together for health. Stand with science.” On April 7, the World Health Organization (WHO) celebrates World Health Day, marking the founding of WHO in 1948. The focus this April and for the coming year celebrates scientific collaboration as key to good health for all people and the planet. It even has a hasht...

While there are many directions to go with “it,” I choose the following one for now. As far back as I can remember, I have understood and practiced the policy of working with people who are smarter than I. Starting in kindergarten and throughout early education, I had teachers who were smarter than I. I learn...

Some three days after my wife, Janet, died and my four-year stint as her carepartner ended, I — barely knowing who I was now — emailed my friend Mara to ask about dogs that might need adopting. Whoever I was now, or would soon discover I was, after 24-hour-aday carepartnering for Janet, I was reaching out for...

There is no precise definition for being in good health. In allopathic health care, we think of good health as a lack of disease, or perhaps disease that is not significantly impacting someone’s well-being. We can measure blood tests or do imaging studies to search for treatable illness. Then we can offer tre...

Some might have preferred knowing me before I could talk, before I had strong opinions and started using banned vocabulary. Apparently, as we age, memories seep in from earlier flashbacks in our lives. I am increasingly aware of times when I was hearing, touching, seeing, exploring objects I could reach with ...

The title of my Ph.D. dissertation is “Transgressive Gender Performance — An Act of Personal and Cultural Transformation” (2013). The idea behind the research was that if I could get a group of heterosexual men to experience gender as something they do (perform) and not something they were, then they would be...

If you are a woman of a certain age, you have probably wondered if doctors skipped the lecture on menopause during their schooling. More accurate would be that doctors of a certain age were never given a lecture on menopause. Who knew that half the population might have menopausal issues in their middle and l...

I was surprised, perhaps shocked, to open a local newsletter recently with a photo of me with my violin. I don’t think of myself as a violinist. Happily, it was taken by a very fine photographer, so I relaxed and enjoyed the moment. I do play the violin. A lot! I play nearly every day in duets, trios, quartet...

I don’t know who I am! For the first two weeks or so after Janet died, I felt like I was floating. Something in my mid-section kept me afloat — off the ground. I mean, I knew that in one reality I was walking, but in this new after-her-death reality, it was like my feet never touched the ground. I wasn’t walk...

This still-dark morning, I startle awake, hearing Kayla pace from my bed to the door and back. Judging from her near-frantic pacing, I realize I’ve not been conscious of her usual sedate tempo that begins a normal day. Being forced to get up fast, find footwear, flip on the coffee machine, find a jacket, and ...

The heart is a muscle. It has four houses, called chambers — which in Greek or Latin refers to something with an arch over it, and in French refers to a private room. In these rooms, we supposedly keep our innermost secrets. Each chamber has a door, called valves, which on their best behavior neatly open and ...

I am at an age where I might forget what I was looking for in the garage, but I can still recite the Pledge of Allegiance and countless nursery rhymes. As a child, I read along, memorized and repeated over the years each of these “sweet” nursery rhymes without thinking about the horrors behind the words. I no...

In the coming year, I will turn 80 — a reality I sometimes find unfathomable. But given our national discourse, I find many of today’s realities unfathomable. What I find most troublesome however, is how I am coping with these realities. Among my circle of friends, concerns surrounding aging, death and dying ...

As young campers, we chanted one song ad nauseam. Since I only liked one version — about prey outsmarting predator — I’d often lead us in that one: There was an old man named Michael Finnegan. He went fishing with a pin again. Caught a fish but it flopped back in again. Poor old Michael Finnegan. Begin again....