Today I returned to Health Canada to take part in a live radiothon for the department's Charitable Campaign. The three-hour show—called GIVE-FM or DONNEZ-FM—featured music, contests and guest interviews. I was one of the guest interviews.

It was a brilliant idea, organized and hosted by Denise Walker and Suzanne Godbout. Employees could listen in from wherever they were working and even watch the broadcast via Zoom.

After playing the video (French, English) that I had done in 2021 to share my story of being diagnosed with and treated for ovarian cancer, Denise and Suzanne asked me a few questions: how I was doing, where my biggest support had come from while going through cancer, what the Charitable Campaign offered employees.

I answered that I was doing well. There really wasn't time to get into everything I've been through since filming the 2021 video: perianal skin cancer, radiation, bilateral mastectomy, removal of one implant. My response reflected that I feel good, both mentally and physically, despite the series of health challenges I have faced.

Regarding my sources of support, I acknowledged my family, of course, but also colleagues, friends and even strangers. Just as giving to the Charitable Campaign or any meaningful cause provides a return to the giver, writing Jenesis has given so much to me in exchange for my gift of writing—support, ideas, camaraderie, connection, purpose.

As part of my guest appearance, I was invited to choose a song for the radiothon. I chose Helen Reddy's "I Am Woman." I recalled having cried upon hearing that song when watching the Helen Reddy biopic I Am Woman during my third chemotherapy treatment. Every time I hear her sing the chorus—"Oh yes, I am wise but it's wisdom born of pain. Yes I've paid the price, but look how much I've gained. If I have to, I can do anything. I am strong. I am invincible. I am woman."—I can't help but sing along.

Among the people supporting Denise and Suzanne today were Samira Hammoud, who worked for a time in my Assistant Deputy Minister's Office, and Tim Burrell, who has been in the audiovisual booth at the Banting Theatre at Tunney's Pasture for as long as I can remember. When Samira greeted me at the entrance to the Banting Building, we exchanged a warm hug. Similarly, when I finished my interview, I climbed the stairs to the audiovisual booth. Tim emerged, presumably aware that I was making a point to go see him. He had little time for anything else but a hug, but it felt so wonderful to greet my old colleague in this way.

While I did hug some coworkers during my time in the workplace, I find it much easier to do so now that I'm retired. I believe the same is true of other retirees, including the former colleague I met last night at The Doobie Brothers concert. One of my former bosses with whom I've remained in touch since his retirement in 2010 hugged me the first time we met after he had left work, liberated from the constraint that he (a male boss) might have felt in interacting with me (a female employee).

I don't know whether we, as a society, are more inclined to hug post-pandemic than we did pre-pandemic. For some of us, hugging is the only greeting that feels right after the turmoil we have all been through. In my case, that includes cancer in addition to COVID. For my part, I think hugs are a wonderful invention, and I will go on sharing them as often as I can.