As SMA Treatments Advance, History Has Its Eyes on Us
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,…
The Wolf Finally Frees Itself
— Brianna Albers
Brianna Albers (she/her) is a crip-cyborg storyteller living in Minneapolis-St. Paul. She was diagnosed with spinal muscular atrophy type 2 in 1996 and lives with co-occurring physical and mental health conditions. By day she works as an advocate, bridging disability and mental health awareness to empower people to live their best lives; by night, she dabbles in imagination, and is currently writing “An Angel in the Garden,” an adult space fantasy with #OwnVoices disability representation. Find her online at briannahopealbers.com and on social media @briehalbers.
Featured Post
Adding a nasal irrigator to my list of rare disease gadgets
It was another appointment in an appointment-packed January. My hopes weren’t particularly high, but no one will ever accuse me of being a less-than-perfect patient, so I braved the cold bite of the new…
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The Evrysdi Chronicles: Full Speed Ahead
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…
3 Melatonin Pills a Night Keep the Hallucinations at Bay
I see things that aren’t there. The writer in me realizes that, at first blush, this sounds like the opening line of a young adult novel. Take, for example, Maggie Stiefvater’s “The Raven Boys,”…
Unlike Hamilton, I Threw Away My Shot
My first instinct was to scream. After weeks of waiting, and days of researching clinics and time slots, I finally received the prized text message: “Brianna and 2 caregivers have been selected for the…
As Spring Arrives, I’m Reflecting on a Year of Quarantine
Time has no meaning anymore. I barely know what day it is. I’m safe in my self-contained bubble of cat cuddles and electric blankets. I rarely ever leave the house. Most of my doctors…
As Someone With SMA, the Fight for My Life Never Ends
It’s become a sort of ritual. Once every few weeks around 3 p.m., my mom will drop by my room. “So,” she’ll say, with ridiculous amounts of forced brightness. “So.” Code word for “We…
My SMA Friends Remind Me That It’s OK to Rest
You already know that for the longest time, I didn’t want friends with SMA. I was young and desperate to be seen as “cool” (whatever that means), but more than that, I was…
How a Head Cold Saved My Life (Figuratively)
We all know that I hate getting up early. Just like I hate adjusting to a new wheelchair — I’ll do it if I have to, but that doesn’t mean I won’t complain…
‘Don’t Tell Me What I Can’t Do’: How ‘Lost’ Navigates Disability
When it comes to “Lost,” you either hate it, love it, or don’t get why people feel so strongly about it. I’m in the second camp, which is to say I feel strongly about…
For the Love of Frozen Breakfast Food
For the longest time, winters were a joyful occasion. It wasn’t that I liked the snow, or the sickness, or the slog of self-isolation. I didn’t want to stay home for a third of…
Who I Am: My Journey From Internalized Ableism to Belonging
I didn’t have many friends growing up. Part of it was the disability. Part of it was the mental illness — social anxiety, depression, and a dash of trauma for good measure. And…
I’m Learning to Embrace a New Shoe
I’m notorious for despising new wheelchairs. It’s not just the discomfort. It’s the painstaking process of calibration — tweaking and experimenting and grumbling under my breath, because my head needs to be tilted a…
