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

Tag: life

Disabled Chronicles, No. 291

The Void The hem of her robe caught my eye from the periphery through the plate glass. The yellow floral pattern wrestled with the egregious wind, to keep covered the curves the mischievous gusts insisted on uncovering. I’d just got done asking the deli manager to help me get a cup of water, which I was ready to pay for, when she announced that water was free. Placing the chilled, covered and strawed cup on the counter facing the window,

Disabled Chronicles, No.236

Breach Healthy summer brush choked the path in front of me. I stopped a moment, unsure if the walk ahead would be possible. As if I hadn’t taken this stroll a hundred different times already. Silly. Of course it would be possible. I pressed ahead and quickly felt something out of place. The air felt closer, the space surrounding me narrower. I slowed again and tried to find the mystery. I looked to my right and noted how the water,

Disabled Chronicles, No.68643

My body has been moved and manipulated by many pairs and sets of gloved hands over the last few months. New hands, unsure hands, cold ones, warm ones. Hands with chipped Tiffany blue polish blurred through the vinyl of the gloves, some with watches, most with no jewelry at all. I generally just lay there, waiting for them to decide on where and how much they should move or adjust or bend my arms and legs and torso, even after

Disabled Chronicles, No.8

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

Disabled Chronicles, No.7

The Set Up I’ve been putting off getting a new electric power wheelchair for well over a year. Okay, so it’s closer to 2/3-ish years.   I know, you’re thinking, ‘But isn’t your chair like, important?’ Extremely. My wheelchair operates like my legs. If I need to get something from the store, I use my wheelchair. When I need to go to the doctors office, I use my wheelchair. Gotta roll to the bathroom and brush my teeth? You got

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