Author Archives: Katie Napiwocki

As SMAers, we’ve probably all been there. We work tirelessly to build a caregiving team. We train, explain, and expose the inner workings of our dignity. We allow new hands and energy into the routine of our daily needs. Our schedule finally cruises along swimmingly — then suddenly,…

Hi, friends. It’s been a minute since I’ve written to you. Some of you are well acquainted with me, while others are just beginning to peek into the window of my life as I put pen to paper. Yes, I know this is a digital age, but my love…

My vision bloomed as I blinked my contacts into their daily parking spaces atop my corneas. I looked around, gathering my wits. Then, I noticed it. It hung over my tea kettle, gleaming in the haze of dainty stovetop lights that cast an aura across the morning…

Spring is a magical time of awakenings, a flagship season of gentle nudges and reminders from the natural world outside my window. Lately, I’ve felt like a honeybee, and I happened to be visited by one in the midst of enjoying springtime vibes the other day.

Spring is a magical time of awakenings, a flagship season of gentle nudges and reminders from the natural world outside my window. Lately, I’ve felt like a honeybee, and I happened to be visited by one in the midst of enjoying springtime vibes the other day.

For the first time as an adult, I’ve met the stranger within myself.  I’ve been exploring the unknown caverns winding deep inside my heart, not from an underground entrance, but instead, closer to the clouds than I’ve been in a long while. My environment and scenery…

Most days, I try not to worry about my SMA to the extent that I forget to breathe and live. I attempt to construct a balance in which I’m tending to my health and wellness, fulfilling my desire for disability advocacy, and mindfully living my life as a…

My body tensed, rigid as the blue therapy mat beneath my body. The physical therapist cradled my right leg, directing me to push my foot against his hand with all the might I could muster from the sleepy depths of my hamstrings.  Face scrunched and fists…

I’ve been on my own more than usual lately.  The idea feels odd to me when I first greet it, but when I consider the depths of the hourglass accounting for all of my life’s moments so far, I visualize solitude as a dear old friend.

I have a fear of falling. It’s not from the great heights of suspension bridges or tall buildings. No, it’s much more humble than that. I fear I will fall off the tiniest exam room table at the gynecologist’s office. And during my recent women’s wellness…