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Clearing Out, Memories, and an Easter Wish

Ahhh. Spring glory in the North Carolina mountains! Light snow covered the ground Sunday morning; by afternoon, honeybees bustled on yellow dandelion flowers, gathering precious pollen to feed bee babies in the hives. Honey, left, and Maple, watching the snow melt Sunday from their sunny spot. (Photo by Helen…

Celebrating My 1st Evrysdi-versary and Looking to the Future

My first Evrysdi-versary passed without incident. Ironic, considering how much time and effort I put into acquiring the medication. A disease-modifying treatment (DMT) for SMA is no small thing. Spinraza (nusinersen) took the community by storm, with patients around the world petitioning their insurance companies. I wasn’t immune to the…

Thanks, but Your Prayers Really Aren’t Necessary

Last Sunday, my dad took me by surprise. “I don’t have anything planned for today,” he said as he helped me get out of bed. “Let’s do something fun.” I assumed he meant something simple, like getting ice cream or dropping by the grocery store for a bouquet of flowers.

Advocacy Starts With Being Kind to Yourself

Today, I thought about the question, “How can I become a better advocate?” For the first time, I realized that I’d taken part in advocacy activities even when I didn’t know it. This is how it happened. I like to buy and download turn-based PC games. In these, I…

It Started With a Pink Slip

As my parents’ first child, I checked off the typical firstborn squares. I was conscientious, reliable, structured, cautious, and an achiever — in short, a perfectionist. My teachers knew I was responsible and that my folks expected me to do my best. I had no desire to disappoint. That…

How a Meltdown Changed My Life for the Better

I was about to wrap up my freshman year of college when I found myself absorbed in a whirlwind of emotions. Tubes surrounded me as I sat in my room attached to my Vest Airway Clearance System, a device I’d been using since my sophomore year of high school.

Giving Up Isn’t a Personal Failure

When it comes to new wheelchairs, I’ve been known to drag my feet. My parents love to tell the story of how my last chair sat in our basement library for a year after I got it. In my defense, I was in the midst of a major depressive episode…