I’ve been a wheezer since childhood. Technically, I’m a ‘severe and persistent’ asthmatic. My lungs are a bit scarred, because many of the life-changing asthma medications didn’t come on the market until I was an adult. Thus, my doctor and I are trying new protocols so that my lungs don’t age faster than I do….
I am ceremonially challenged. I think the roots of this affliction lie in my childhood– shocking, I know, Dr. Freud. But where? I’m confident that those who know me surely have many suggestions as to where my emotional development went wrong … but this is fodder for many future blogs. At the moment, two suspect…
My thread is frayed and worn with age. Though it shakes now, my thread will never break. Yes, a given day may force a particular fiber to waver, but it will hold together. My thread is strong. My thread is fierce. My thread is the belief that it – I – will be okay. That…
I like to view myself as a force of good and I choose to believe that I will leave this world a better place for having been in it. I hope I’m right. Time will tell. But whenever I do shuffle off this mortal coil, I’m fairly certain that my exit will be earlier than I’d…
I vaguely remember a story in which the teller said that they were thankful for some malady because in the process of diagnosing it, doctors discovered something much graver. I understand this logic – but from afar. I am trying to find it in me to be thankful that I’ve been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease,…
I hate Valentine’s Day. Sure, I wore two of the few red items I own – red Crocs and a red sweater — in ostensible celebration of the Hallmark holiday – just because you hate ‘em doesn’t mean you shouldn’t join ‘em – but it was not out of love but social pressure… darn kids….