After each individual appointment with my oncologist, either virtual or in person, all my prescription needs and my next round of appointments are scheduled while I wait.
I am writing this letter in response to the misinformation regularly put forth in the communications from the board of the WMCCA.
(All these times are approximate – or they're not.
...and I suppose life is back on, especially for those of us who have been vaccinated.
Recently, I made the mistake of clicking on an email from an unfamiliar sender.
Across the board, children have better outcomes when their parents have a shared parenting schedule, even in high-conflict cases.
On the May 13 Eid holiday, Abrar Omeish, at-large member of the Fairfax County School Board, Tweeted: "Hurts my heart to celebrate while Israel kills Palestinians & desecrates the Holy Land right now,” she wrote.
As I discussed a few weeks back, having all this time off/apart from cancer-related activities is unsettling in a peculiar way.
From the moment you hear the word cancer spoken in your direction – from your new best friend, an oncologist with whom you've had zero previous interaction, you are transported to a new reality.
As previously referred to in a recent column, even though I am hardly cancer-free, nonetheless I am cancer interruptus for the next four weeks.
When I was in elementary school back in the ’80s, I came to school after celebrating Eid and closed my sweaty hands into fists.
Have I mentioned in print lately that we, resident owners of "Belly Acres" in Burtonsville, are back to being a five-indoor-cat household?
You know the expression: "Can't walk and chew gum at the same time,” a disparaging characterization of a person, company or municipality unable to multi-task or even task at all?
Tuesday, the County Council acting as the Board of Health approved a phased reopening strategy tied to the significant progress we've been able to make on vaccinations.
I'm sort of invoking Southwest Airlines here, but not exactly.