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Sandra Jean-Pierre | Digital Artist & Writer of Words.

Category: Health

Fight ME!

I was one of those kids who was sure that No ONE was the boss of me; not even my Momma. I remember the very first time I was ever angry with her, being five or six years old and how I glowered at her as she tied my dark brown orthopedic shoes and tried to push me to do more physical therapy when I just didn’t want to. As she lifted her head after tying my shoes, she was

Celiac Chronicles, No.7465

That one time you ask your aide to make you multiple servings of the new Cream Of Rice cereal you found and that was purchased along side Bethany’s Cream Of Wheat… And though they were bagged together but in separate containers, your aide managed to grab the wrong box (and you didn’t even think to triple check to ensure she grabbed the correct one) and proceeded to make a whole 12 mini containers worth of the Cream Of Death so

Disabled Chronicles, No.2

The amount of advocating I’ve had to do for myself (and with some help) this past week has been astronomical. This has been on top of the normal fuckery people bring on the daily. It’s also made me weary. The landscape of my main condition has been shifting… for some time, if I’m honest. This past week was the reckoning. I advocated for new equipment, new services and other things besides. These recent days behind me, have been my main

#CeliacWhileBlack

New-to-Me doctors are an interesting bunch: They either discount everything I say and treat me like any other typical patient (never a good idea) or they are so determined to peg me into some kind of category that they miss things. That is never good either. So it was with a leery mind that I followed my PCPs recommendation to follow up with an allergist after things took a left turn for me earlier this year. That horrible blood draw

Hard Stick

Those who’ve been following me for any extended length of time know that my body does not like giving up my veins for sacrifice (this is called: being a hard stick). Not for routine blood work or to save my life. You’d also know my ordeal with Quest labs, where they can *never* find my veins, which usually ends with me having to admit myself to the nearest hospital as outpatient to have their phlebotomist who is well versed in

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