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“Automatic out, Storlie’s up!” my classmates would chant when I’d get up to bat.  As a young girl in the 60s, I was a skinny, klutzy kid no one wanted on their team. Humiliated and defeated, I’d swing my three strikes and, maybe, get walked. I grew up hating PE and sports. As a nutrition…

Last week, I spent 5 days and 4 nights in hospice with my father, Jack Storlie, who passed away on May 4. During this vigil, I experienced the emotional side of health in the deepest way possible. Before going into a coma, Dad was recovering from an emergency surgery that removed 25% of his small…