Looking back on my childhood, I realize how curious I was, and that this trait has followed me into adulthood. For many years, I barely remembered being an inquiring child who delighted in stories, facts, and answers to endless questions. In elementary school, I lived in an affluent area. I happily investigated my friends' houses as they led me on tours. I was eager to explore their art, interior design, and music, and meet their family members, who rarely seemed excited to have me tagging along. I had no clue that I might be a nuisance. I was absorbing new information with great enthusiasm and was happy to run home and share it all with my mother, who, if I'm honest, wasn't very interested. It was years later, after I finished chemotherapy treatment for cancer, that I recognized this part of myself. When my neurologist told me chemobrain was common, but most likely temporary, and there wasn't a lot that could be done for me, I didn't get too discouraged about it. A...