Reclaiming the disabled narrative.
I was thoroughly burrowed in my bed when a familiar ache started creeping up the backs of my thighs. I had spent the day stretching out my contracted muscles, and they were pissed. If I didn’t take something soon, I would be awake in a few hours with pain too excruciating to fall back asleep.… Continue reading Red Tape, Duct Tape: The Unexpected Saga of Getting and Keeping My Wheelchair
*Some names in this memoir have been changed to protect privacy. Morrison Mock was an elementary school split in two. One half was a standard K-5th grade school, while the other half served students with severe physical and mental disabilities. The administration made sure that the two halves were inclusive, that the standard K-5 side… Continue reading What a Long, Strange Trip it Was: My Life as the Only Disabled Kid in School
A few weekends ago, my husband convinced me to go with him to a Pokèmon Go community day event (yes, some of us are still playing). We roamed our old college campus in a never-ending quest to catch 'em all on an Indiana day so hot and sticky it was like living in the Devil's… Continue reading I’m 28 Years Old and Just Bought Shorts for the First Time
My phone buzzed on my desk at 5:30 on Friday evening. I didn't recognize the number and bet my coworkers that it was one of the many spam calls we all get on a daily basis. I fought my natural instinct and picked up. It was my neurologist. The results of my genetic test were… Continue reading After Years of Battle, A Monster Unveiled
Part 1 I've gone through innumerable pairs of leg braces in my life. Every year or two, throughout my childhood and adolescence, I had an appointment with an orthotist who would wrap my legs in cellophane and plaster, creating perfect replicas of my atrophied legs. It was like getting a fresh pair of shoes for… Continue reading The Year I Walked Away from My Wheelchair
I was just a toddler when my family knew for sure that the disease that had been raging through our bloodline for generations had come for me. There was no formal diagnosis, no genetic tests or EMGs. My legs and feet looked just like my sister's, and my dad's and my dad's dad's. There was… Continue reading Dealing with My Diagnosis: 25 Years Later