I was in my fifties when I learned that I have attention deficit disorder. Somehow that sounds as though I was late investigating what makes me tick. I was. I was too busy and too successful to slow down and look over my shoulder. When I did glance back, I saw a shadow behind me, so I kept running. Helena, my wife, used to ask me why I did not slow down and take an easier, less stressful job. Each time she said that, I shuddered, not knowing exactly why that suggestion bothered me so much.