Bill Walton and I have little in common. He was an athlete’s athlete, People have kindly called me a doctor’s doctor. He had a second career as a beloved broadcaster, heard by millions of basketball fans around the world. I have a second career as an author, beloved perhaps by the few dozens of people who have read my books (which, by the way, you can find on this website, just sayin’…). Bill’s second career paid a lot better. For that matter, so did his first career. Bill was a college basketball standout, an All-American and twice national champion. I spent college in an electron microscopy lab, working late at night looking at cancer cells. I was a big fan of Walton’s; I’m certain he had never heard of me.

Yet, despite having nothing in common to speak of, Walton’s death the same week as my birthday, and at the same age, shook me. I like to think I’ve always felt every day is precious, but admittedly some days fly by with me too busy to notice how lucky I am to be here. That’s what my little book, No Regrets Living, is about. News like Bill Walton’s death at 71 reminds me, about how lucky and blessed I really am.

Rest in peace, Bill Walton. I and millions of other fans will miss you.

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