A little over a week ago, I was in the hospital. The brief, one-day stay came about because of some stomach pains that wouldn't go away. I went to the ER, they ran some lab tests and a CT scan, and discovered diverticulitis . Some IV antibiotics (and potassium) while at the hospital, followed by oral antibiotics and pain meds have seen an improvement, though I am still not 100%. Overall, I've appreciated the situation, which may sound odd. It is by no means a new, startling sentiment to note that our down times help us appreciate when things are good. Hills and valleys and all that. This episode of diverticulitis (my first and, hopefully, last) has been such an experience. As I lay on the utilitarian bed, under the harsh, sterile glow of the ER lights, a multitude of thoughts went through my mind: Is it cancer? Is this the beginning of the end? Have I done all I want to in this life?