Let’s talk about the green-eyed elephant in the room. I’m a naturally jealous person. The therapist in me is convinced that my childhood has something to do with it — all those hours on the playground watching the kids on the monkey bars, wishing quietly for a body like…
Columns
My family and I are gathered around the television when one of our favorite shows is interrupted by a commercial. An image is shown of a young person smiling at the camera. They appear to be happy and healthy. Then the screen changes to show the same person lying in…
Growing up, I was a fairly well-behaved student. I did my homework. I paid attention during class. I always raised my wand (my way of raising my hand since I couldn’t physically do so) when I had a question, and I respected my teachers. In other words, I never caused…
Have you ever felt the sensation of the wild green thorns? In times of overwhelming frustration, they slither toward the pit of your inner sanctuary from outer reaches. Their barbed tendrils gouge trails of apathy across the stone walls and humble cottage windows surrounding your heart. They bludgeon through…
As teens, my husband, Randy, and his brother kept bees in their family’s tiny backyard. Way back then, the protective gear was flimsy at best, and they both eventually sought less painful hobbies. The opening of a new local beekeeping store just before Randy’s retirement a few years…
The first and last time I consulted an orthopedic surgeon, I was told I had a 50-50 chance of surviving a spinal fusion. “Her lung capacity is 24% at its highest,” the surgeon told my parents. Their faces fell. I could sense their apprehension.
I’ve dreamed of cures. Miracles that occur in the blink of an eye. One minute, I’m sitting in my wheelchair, and the next, I’m standing, walking, running. I’m wobbly on my feet, of course, and crying, because everything has changed, and I’m probably overwhelmed by the newness of it all…
On the corner of Western Avenue and Birch Street, two dainty toddlers ruffled through vibrantly woven Easter baskets. A dawdling waterfall of sunlight beamed through the bay window, casting a gilded aura around their disheveled nests of Sunday-morning hair. With contrasting hand strength, they each shook plastic eggs…
“Chewie, we’re home.” Just as Han Solo uttered these words when he stepped aboard the Millennium Falcon in “The Force Awakens,” I felt a similar tinge of nostalgia and excitement upon returning to my favorite movie theater after an entire year.
According to my mother, my columns are the first result when you Google “Evrysdi (risdiplam) denial.” Which isn’t surprising. I’ve written several scathing columns about the application process, from verifying my diagnosis to correcting blatantly false insurance claims. The squeaky wheel gets the grease, or so the…
