Close Call With Kitchen Floor Gives Me Pause

 Early in the Morning od Jun e 11th, on which my late mother would be turning 86, while chasing down a roach before heading to the back of the house,, I lost my balance and collided, nose-first, with the hard kitchen floor. At first I was convinced that a tooth had been broken, but the effect was to violenty twist the cartilage of my nose, bringing on some scary, acute nosebleed before the needed clotting set in. Melissa quickly drove my sorry ass down to the UFHealh Emergency room on  NW 39th Avenue.    After my session there, I returned home and slept off the rest o the morning, grateful to God for His divine protection during that time of my personal foolishness that I hope I learned something important from.  The rest of the day saw me being much more careful with my movements while honoring my wonderful mother's memory..Now onward to June 12th..    

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my reflective reset:Where do I go from here

 MY reflective reset: Where do I go from Here?

Often lately I have been reminiscing of a specific time in my distant past, when I was returning to Nova High School as a ninth year student in the summer of 1970.  Back then it seemed th future was wide open and optimism was warranted. But soon the emotionally exhausting daily grind would settle in over me about having to contend with apathetic and abusive teachers and classmates, making even beginning to do the homework regularly dumped on me impossible. I even devised a workable strategy involving getting up before sunrise and doing it, with some instant coffee, qt the dining room table. Only problem is that my mother never trusted me and made it clear that I was the one she insisted hqd to prove myself to her,  when it was she who was the one who needed to gain my trust, with her often threatening to suddenly pull me out of NOva and send me to MAaArthur.O Well, I have my brain cancer diagnosis and once again I have to lean on Melissa for her to prove her own al-ready-proventrustorthiness for me.YET I'Ve only been provided an indeterminent, awfully inadequate span of time to remain alive until this gbm finally takes over, only to die out soon after I'm gone.I will use pen and paper to create my strategy for active survival. I really must be free to drive the white Camry, to go on weekly Pqrkruns when chances arise, and  dutifully and consistently perform the crucial home  exercises on the living room floor.   And, Melissa, thank you so much and God bless you...