Read the Blog
I’m an open book. I hope you can connect with even just one of the many pages.
Why you should watch the paralympics
This year, the Olympic and Paralympic Games are being held in Paris, making quite the elegant, dreamy backdrop for the world's most beloved and prestigious sporting event. But it's not the carrying of the flame or the elaborate opening ceremony that draws in viewers; it's hope that does that...
Kindness and compliments
Last week, I told you all about my favorite compliment. The kind where a stranger stops to tell me they like my "sparkly leg." It got me thinking more in-depth about compliments and how we form them. All those kind words of admiration floating around in our heads but not always spoken out loud. Why aren't we sharing them? ...
My favorite Compliment
It's sweaty summer again, and I live in the oven they call Florida, so jeans have been pretty much banned since at least April. Kiki, my prosthetic, is getting lots of stage time while I live in shorts, and that means more stares. But what it also means is more compliments...
Busy not being sick
Last week, I had my first oncology follow-up that involved zero anxiety. It felt so damn good, I had to take a moment to remind myself that I might be busy, but I'm not busy being sick or thinking that I'm sick or recovering from anything, and that feels freaking fantastic…
The Logical Cancer Survivor
It’s almost scan week. This used to happen every three months, but recently, I graduated to every six months, which technically gives me more time to panic when I feel a strange pain. But yet, something magical happened recently. I felt a deep pain in my residual limb, and, well, I didn’t panic…
There is always something to worry about
There is a global IT outage currently affecting airlines, banks, and airports. A tragic humanitarian crisis is playing out in Gaza. I just scheduled my next oncology scans, and as I write this, we are still unsure if we actually have a democratic candidate for the 2024 US elections. There are plenty of things one could be worried about or even stressed about…
How to survive the limb loss healing period by making plans
When new amputees and cancer survivors are in the thick of healing, every day can feel endless. Progress happens so slowly that it can be easy to spiral in an afternoon if you don't have enough tasks to keep yourself preoccupied…
Unpacking Disability Pride Month
July is Disability Pride Month, and as an amputee who not only lives with a disability daily but blogs about it, makes connections with others because of it, and does her best to rise above the struggles that come along with it, I feel qualified to unpack what it means to me…
Why you shouldn't ask what happened to my leg
Many of my favorite online creators have recently voiced their frustration with strangers asking for their limb loss stories. You've heard me say it before, but I'm going to say it again because some people in the back haven't heard us yelling and still think it's OK to have us relive our trauma to satisfy their morbid curiosity…
All the small things
Today, I was reminded that when you pretend a problem isn't a problem, it grows roots and ruins your plumbing. What I mean is that we're often so busy dealing with the most obvious, in-our-face issues that we neglect the smaller things by not acknowledging them as something of concern…
Patience is a virtue I wish I didn’t have to use so often
As I find myself once again waiting for a doctor to sign a document so my prosthetist can begin to make me a test socket that may or may not fit me correctly, I cannot help but think of how often I've had to be patient over the last ten years. I am easily irritated by red street lights, and I cannot stand how long a frozen lasagna takes to cook in the oven, but here is a list of things I waited ages for that would drive most people insane…
This is 40
In true Gemini fashion, I started celebrating my birthday over a month ago with a girl's trip to Scottsdale, which mainly consisted of belly laughs, salty margaritas, and too many outfit changes to count. Back in early May, under the Arizona sun, I felt grateful to be surrounded by my closest friends and for the ability to walk down Whiskey Row without my prosthetic leg failing me- although it did beep low battery on the dance floor of a rowdy club one night. Here I was, turning forty, an age that most women are taught to dread. But I'm still alive and "kicking," so who am I to complain about reaching middle age? …