I'm Having A "Chopped Steak Moment"

Everything in my life boils down to 2 types of experiences; either I am consciously engaged with the connected oneness of the universe (see the story on page 11 of my book about my experience of cutting my finger on the beach when I was 6 years old) or I am having a "chopped steak moment."

I learned how to read when I was 5 years old. I felt so grown up when I went out to a restaurant with my parents because I could order from the menu. One Sunday when we went out to dinner at Corky's, a Miami Beach cross between a diner and a Jewish deli, I ordered the chopped steak. My reading skills far surpassed my ability to wield a steak knife. I thought I was being clever, discovering an item on the menu that I didn't have to cut myself. I expected to be served a steak chopped up in little pieces, but what the waiter placed in front of me was a large oval hamburger smothered in brown mushroom gravy. I sat at the table crying inconsolably, and muttering, "this isn't what I expected."

Here I am 48 years later, having been diagnosed last week with 1 tumor in my sternum and another in a rib. I am definitely having a "chopped steak moment."

I had hoped to post a more thorough summary of what's going on with me tonight, but I unexpectedly got an appointment tomorrow at 7 am for a bone biopsy. I will let you all know more about what's going on as soon as I know. In the meantime, everything but my chest feels great. So far all my blood tests, x-rays, MRIs, CT scans, mammograms, ultrasounds, and biopsies haven't shown us what it is or where it comes from. This is good news, but the bad news is that we don't know. We'll know a lot more after tomorrow.

Take good care of yourselves (really think about what that means and do something about it), and I'll be in touch.