Columns

It’s not that I didn’t think I’d have side effects. I hoped. Just like I hoped that COVID-19 would wind down by late last summer; just like I hoped “The Rise of Skywalker” would be, like, tolerable. But I knew better. It was a vaccine, after all, and a…

Some people with disabilities say they’ve never wished for different circumstances. Well, I’m about to enter a black hole with you, in revelation of an honest confession: I’ve cast so many wishes into the night, I’ve nearly robbed the entire sky of stars.  Odds are,…

We live in an age of rumors and widespread gossip. Many people seem to be mudslinging, and we’re all covered in it. Gossip didn’t start with the rise of social media, which is just a new medium through which it can slowly drip into…

A woman lies in a hospital bed, her breathing erratic and her forehead damp with sweat. She’s shaking from the pain she’s in. In a matter of days, the loss of control and sensation in her legs has spread to her right hand and is now progressing…

My dad and I both heard the perfunctory snap as the right armrest on my power wheelchair lowered. I was about to get ready for bed on a Friday night, and my dad had just transferred me from my bathroom seat to my chair. As he lowered…

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…

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…

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…

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.

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…