Like a decent percentage of the global population, I have part of the “Frozen II” soundtrack stuck in my head. The movie is about the unknown. Self-acceptance. Stepping into your power. Themes that are fitting for me, as the sun sets on the second decade of my…
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 “Death and the Blade,” a romance-forward adult fantasy novel with #OwnVoices disability representation. Find her online at briehalbers.com and on social media @briehalbers.
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Another day, another trek to Gillette Children’s Specialty Healthcare. This time, though, it’s for something I’ve never done before: a cortisone injection in my right hip. For all I’ve written about chronic pain over the years, I don’t think I fully understood how debilitating it can be until just recently. It…
I have this nagging feeling that I’m going to die in bed. My parents sleep in the basement, so when I need to be rolled at night, I scream at the top of my lungs until someone hears me. We have a baby monitor that works…
A few weeks ago, my mom and I went to Junk Bonanza, a vintage market that’s held twice a year at the local horse racing track. I feel twice my age while I’m there, but it’s a chance for Mom and…
As a kid, I assumed that happiness would be accompanied by a kiss in the rain, like the iconic scene between Hilary Duff and Chad Michael Murray in “A Cinderella Story.” Or that scene in “The Princess Diaries 2:…
In case you’re wondering, the miraculous acne medication, Accutane (isotretinoin), is as fun as it sounds. Accutane is a six-month program, which means I have three months left. The medication is definitely…
I was the kid with 50 different diaries. Usually pink with sparkles. Bonus points if they came with their own bejeweled pen, because what 9-year-old girl doesn’t like rhinestones? The issue is that I never used them. People would buy me diaries…
I wasn’t sure what to expect from this year’s Cure SMA Conference. I’d attended only once before, but I was too young to care about anything except for the service dog that I met and for which I subsequently longed. I knew there’d be…
Between the wheelchair, the pristine white Keds, and the pink baseball hat, I stand out. But I can’t say that I’m used to strangers stopping me in the middle of a reception hall so they can compliment my writing. “So you’re the famous columnist!” Am I?…
“You don’t have to feel guilty,” my therapist told me. “Just try to enjoy yourself. You won’t make the trip better for anyone by feeling guilty.” I made the mistake of telling my dad about this exchange, so whenever anything remotely inconvenient occurs, he says, “You…
If you’ve been keeping up with my column, you’ll know that my parents and I are essentially living in a no-fly zone (only our closest friends are allowed to visit because the house is a mess and also probably a health hazard). There…
Before I knew what illness anxiety was, I made excuses for my ever-present fear of death by the common cold. “I was supposed to die at 9 years of age,” I tell people, watching their faces screw up with realization. “I shouldn’t be…
When I first met Elena, my patient care assistant’s daughter, she was almost 2, with chubby cheeks and golden ringlets of hair. She was shy — painfully so. It took her months to warm up to me, and even then she…
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