Every 28 days or so, I convince myself that I’m dying. If you’ve read my column before, you’ll know that I have a complicated relationship with death, which is to say I see it everywhere. Years ago, when I first started writing for SMA News Today, I thought I had…
Columns
I’ve been depending on my tracheostomy tube to supply me with sufficient amounts of oxygen for 11 years. At this point, its presence is familiar to me in much the same way as a favorite piece of jewelry that’s worn every day. I don’t always think about…
Years before the pandemic, I was visiting a museum in Washington, D.C. A young child looked at me and my high-tech wheelchair. He then asked my mom, “Is he real?” I have to think from his perspective. We were at a technologically advanced museum. He probably thought that I…
Last Friday was a full moon, Friday the 13th kind of day, although officially it was neither. The stink bugs in the house and the dead skunk in the road summed it up perfectly. The day stank. But let me back up. The rental cabin my husband, Randy, and…
I never think about my life after 7 p.m. Years ago, I stumbled across this particularly helpful life tip. As someone with anxiety, I have a hard time shutting up my brain, especially after the sun sets. Depending on my mood, I can easily get wrapped up in worst-case…
Like all young girls, I was part of the target demographic for romance. Disney and Barbie movies, pop music, young adult novels, TV dramas — you get the idea. Romance was sold to me everywhere, and I bought it happily, if ignorantly. Hence, like all young girls, I grew up…
“Hello, Peter. What’s happening? Umm, I’m gonna need you to go ahead and come in tomorrow. So, if you could be here around 9 that would be great. Mmkay? Oh, oh, and I almost forgot, ahh, I’m also gonna need you to go ahead and come in on Sunday, too,…
Last January, I wrote about shoes. At the time, I was gearing up to get a new wheelchair. Those who are familiar with wheelchairs will recognize this process for what it is: absolute agony. From seating to driving to minuscule issues that you can’t pinpoint for the life of…
In 2019, something wonderful happened. I got bit by the tattoo bug. If you’ve followed my column for a while, you’ll know my first tattoo was a big deal. First, it was finding an artist I vibed with. Then it was finding an accessible parlor — no mean…
Last year, my grandma excitedly told me about the book her high school students had been assigned for summer reading. After reading only a few chapters of “Unwind” by Neal Shusterman, she was clearly hooked and insisted I read it. I didn’t need much convincing — futuristic young adult…
