Author Archives: Brianna Albers

Content warning: This column discusses medical trauma. Last in a series. Read part one here.  I knew something was wrong when I started throwing up. After an eight-hour wait in an emergency room far from home, I’d finally gotten my feeding tube replaced — not by a medical…

Content warning: This column discusses medical trauma. First in a series. Who really knows what time it is? 11? 12? 1? Time blurs when you’re on the precipice of something that will throw a wrench in all of your plans. I’m lying in bed in our newly purchased…

When I chose my theme for 2024, I didn’t expect to take it for a spin before the year even started. Every December, I start thinking about a word or phrase that will guide me through the next 12 months. I usually pick a theme and stick with it,…

On a Sunday morning in mid-November, I opened my email to a newsletter from one of my favorite writers, Catherine Andrews. In it, she named the past 15 years of her life as being particularly contractive. She struggled with everything, from her relationship with alcohol to dating and…

The clock ticked accusingly on the wall. A lab technician had been inspecting my arm for the better part of 10 minutes, all in search of a vein that would put out a nominal amount of blood. Normally, I trek all the way downtown for lab work. Because of…

Some people live for cold weather. They hate the heat, for some strange, inexplicable reason, and live for the day when they can pull out their chunky knit sweaters and thick, fuzzy socks. I am not one of those people. Aesthetically, I love the colder months. I love candles…

Second in a series. It was a dreary fall afternoon when I told my dad: “By the way, you should know I’m depressed.” I’d been feeling down for a couple of days, to the point where I was starting to lose interest in things that usually bring me joy…

First in a series. “What was your support system like growing up?” I was on the phone with a researcher from Augustana University in South Dakota. We were discussing my transition from pediatric to adult care as someone with a disability (in my case, SMA). I’d just finished…

Growing up, my pediatrician was more than a doctor; she was part of the family. She supported me through all of life’s transitions, from puberty and menstruation to my transition to adult care when I turned 20. She even attended my high school graduation party. She knew all of…

I’d just survived a car accident in Phoenix while road tripping with my parents from our home in Minnesota to the 2022 Cure SMA conference in Anaheim, California. (Long story short, my dad ran over a particularly nasty curb in a gas station parking lot. Any other…