Secretly, I usually dread this time of year. To borrow from singer-songwriter Sara Bareilles, December is, to me, a “problem child.” It’s not easy to exist inside of this contradictory month, a time of both celebration and solemnity, of looking backward and forward. My birthday and…
On a Sunday morning in mid-November, I opened my email to a newsletter from one of my favorite writers, Catherine Andrews. In it, she named the past 15 years of her life as being particularly contractive. She struggled with everything, from her relationship with alcohol to dating and creativity.
A few years ago, I rolled into the local disability center, as I often did at the time, for a day of exercise, crafting, and volunteer work. But because it was Christmas, I’d brought something extra. My nurse carried a stack of cards I’d made for staff…
As I check off the last item on my long list of gifts for the family I adopted this Christmas, I say a little prayer that they’ll feel utmost joy and kindness this season. I’ve been adopting families for many years now. It’s my way of saying thank…
My days growing up in Fort Worth, Texas, are chock-full of fond memories, like waiting in line at Mrs. Baird’s Bakery to talk to Santa. He was the real deal, not some measly helper. The heavenly aroma of bread baking was proof that Mrs. Claus was bustling in the…
In retrospect, my girlfriend must’ve been laughing at the ridiculous glee in my texts. “DISABILITY REPRESENTATION!” I practically shrieked at her, my fingers almost tripping over my keyboard. We were watching the first of the three 60th-anniversary “Doctor Who” specials together, though we live time zones apart.
Entering the hospital recently for what felt like the millionth time was not my idea of an afternoon well spent. Nevertheless, it wasn’t like I had much of a choice. My nasojejunal feeding tube requires me to go to the interventional radiology department every 10 days to get my…
In my last column, I wrote about feeling as though I’m turning a page in my life. I want to foster a belief in spiritual hope and share it with others one-on-one. So how else am I turning the page, and how does it relate to hope? Let’s look…
Because my husband, Randy, and I had neither furniture nor money when we got married, we lived in furnished apartments for the first couple of years. We purchased the furniture in one of our last apartments for a ridiculously low price. When we bought our first house, my parents…
The clock ticked accusingly on the wall. A lab technician had been inspecting my arm for the better part of 10 minutes, all in search of a vein that would put out a nominal amount of blood. Normally, I trek all the way downtown for lab work. Because of…
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