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Disabled Chronicles, No. 2f

Disabled Chronicles, No. 2f

My kidneys decided that the 18 of June would not be a good day for my next Spinraza injection. This, despite my admittedly questionable attempt at hydrating in preparation for it. My urine, though average looking in the sample cup that I zip bagged and cradled in my...

Disabled Chronicles, No2e1

Disabled Chronicles, No2e1

I casually came to know his name. He was next up to get dosed after my trial at the hospital. When I bid my awesome nurses goodbye until my next maintenance dose, I cheered on Joe (not his real name) and wished him (in absentia) and the team of nurses well and good...

Disabled Chronicles, No.2e

Disabled Chronicles, No.2e

Her finger landed in the space between my eyes gently, like a soft cat paw, sending a hush of quiet energy through my body and mind. “In meditation they tell Us to tap and focus here...” She couldn’t have known about the year I spent in meditation study under the Sant...

Black Women Tears

Black Women Tears

There are tears Black Women shed, that speak of every disappointment and hurt that’s brought her to this very moment. They are tears of anguish and sometimes despair that maybe encompass never being regarded as precious, even as a GirlBaby or a WomanChild. They are...

Disabled Chronicles, No.2d2

Disabled Chronicles, No.2d2

After Spinraza injections, the ‘floaties’ in my eyes appear like straight lengths of ‘string’ with an impressive knot in the middle. Uniform, peculiar as my ‘normal’ floaties go, which are bendy, twisted affairs, beautiful in their organic go at existence. Plentiful...

Disabled Chronicles, No.675

Disabled Chronicles, No.675

My feet feel like I’ve been standing on them all day. They are achy and throbby and super glad to be in bed. I did not use my fancy schmancy foldy chair to adjust myself but for one hour today... really over the past four days. I’ve been working. Planning. Dreaming....

Reminder

Reminder

By way of My Cowboy, Ira Wile: “The problem is you’re too busy holding on to your unworthiness” — Ram Dass

This Work

This Work

in the reaching muscles, taut strand over strand to breaking, burning... faith - dust speck wide, without kin or end of tunnel light - sparked anyway, and The Work of un-breaking The Child, of wiping The Grown from Young Mind of blowing heart-wrenched...

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