Did I ever mention my Aunt Josephine? She was a smoker and proud of it. Oxygen at 62. Cancer at 67. She was smoking in the hospital bed Uncle Frank had installed at her house at the end.
And God knows I loved my Aunt Nora. When I was a kid she was one of those 300 pounders who never had kids but loved them. She would give you one of those giant bear hugs hello and good bye. I was afraid of her because my older cousins said one day she would hug me and eat me like a snack, like poor cousin Michael. She spent the last ten years of her life home bound, the final four bedridden after they took off her leg.
There is a relationship between health and dollars but lifestyle change can be surprisingly impervious to monetary incentives
And God knows I loved my Aunt Nora. When I was a kid she was one of those 300 pounders who never had kids but loved them. She would give you one of those giant bear hugs hello and good bye. I was afraid of her because my older cousins said one day she would hug me and eat me like a snack, like poor cousin Michael. She spent the last ten years of her life home bound, the final four bedridden after they took off her leg.
There is a relationship between health and dollars but lifestyle change can be surprisingly impervious to monetary incentives