Gather. Discover. Cultivate.
Right now someone is packing for a research trip to Antarctica. Swimming with dolphins. Having their first dance.
Someone is falling in love on a bridge in Venice. Ziplining off a treetop platform. Spelunking in a cave in near total darkness.
Someone’s life disappears into the shadows of another’s big moment.
When the unit of measure plucked from the shelf, someone always falls short.
Continue reading “The Incredible Shrinking Woman”
Halfway up the road to the lake, the ground caved in. It was our first summer running the YMCA summer camp in the mountains of Colorado. The new culvert system our regional Y had installed at a cost of $900K had not even had its first birthday.
Continue reading “Joint Force: Notes on Recovery Efforts”
As soon as we come in out of the heat, she heads for the kitchen. First stop is the food bowl in case something new has materialized. Then it’s to the water. She gives it a few good laps then ambles over to collapse on her bed by the balcony doors.
I try to keep her water filled. Sometimes I forget and all that greets her is a rank two-day old puddle, if that. She doesn’t know how to signal it’s time for a refill. It’s up to me to remember to keep track but lately my attention is slippery. These are not my proudest moments, when I can’t recall the last time she had something within reach to drink.
Continue reading “A Blessing of Waters”
The Visible app gives me a 2. Not the lowest score possible but It is a “Back to bed with you, Dear” kind of score. A score of knitted brows and wringing hands. Your body is out of balance today, the app tells me. You may want to plan a quieter day.
So I do. Even though the sun is up and the crepe myrtle blossoms are unfurling in the July heat, I down my morning meds and crawl back under the sheets. Eye mask, earplugs, more sleep. Fractured sleep disturbed by epic action-thriller fever dreams that shake my hold on reality, but sleep nonetheless. What else is there to do?
Continue reading “Know Happy: Notes on Voluntary Confinement”
“Every family should have a wheelchair,” Alan says. That’s what he says too about the walker, crutches, and toilet seat riser left over from medical procedures of yore. He stores all these in his basement closet. “Just in case.”
Continue reading “Ready to Roll: Notes on Mobility Aids (part 1)”
This last night of 2023 also happens to be my last evening off before returning to work. Three months of medical leave has been the best gift of the year. Because “going out” is no more than a fading memory from a distant land, I’m staying in tonight to answer five questions you haven’t asked yet (but maybe were going to) about Life with the Mystery Sick.
Continue reading “5 Answers to 5 Questions You Didn’t Ask”
Thank you for protecting us. You were so brave. You did exactly what you needed to do to keep that mess from doing its worst. Considering all of the ways we could have been done in, all of the dangers at the door, it’s really a marvel that you knew just what to do. Your arsenal was stocked and you, skilled at using everything in there. You kept us safe. You have our deepest gratitude.
Now that we’re sitting down here together, we have something else to tell you. It’s important. We need you to hear this. Are you ready?
Continue reading “Immune Response”
You have to be able to hold two things in your head. This illness destroyed my life. But what it showed me, I could never give that back.
Jennifer Brea, Unrest
Please watch this film. It’s the story you didn’t know you needed. If you want to understand what Long COVID is about, all the articles and essays in the world won’t get you as far as Unrest. No matter that it came out in 2017 before the pandemic. The chronic illnesses that can ravage a body (and a population) after an infection have been around as long as people have.
Continue reading “Chronic Illness Storytime: Unrest”
Why is it not enough to just be a gas station? Why does it also insist on being an entertainment platform, an advertising space, and a point of sale? All I’m asking from the Shell station is a fill-up on my little Prius. But as I stand there, pump in hand, the doors to the convenience store scream with images of Lottery jackpot numbers, cryptocurrency, Marlboros, and every flavor of beverage. Then, as soon as I’ve activated the pump, an upbeat voice starts speaking to me. About what now? The latest fashions on the red carpet? Yes, right at eye level, an entertainment “news”cast video selling more more more. More products, shows, celebrities, a car wash, and an upgrade to premium gas.
Enough already!
Continue reading “Enough Already: Notes on Sensory Overwhelm (part 2)”
Outside, someone was smoking. The stink leaked in around the closed front windows. It stung my eyes as I sat in my partner’s living room in an easy chair, slogging through a work task. This has been my setup for the better part of the past year: balancing on the tightrope between productivity and rest. Pillows, lap trays, things to hold my feet up. Sunlight. Headphones. Pomodoros.
I tried to ignore the smell but it grew stronger. I glanced out but couldn’t see anyone outside. The place is nestled in a cohousing community with a small group of neighbors. Some may light up the occasional joint, but no cigarette smokers.
So it must be someone delivering a package. Or working on a neighbor’s gutters.
The smell persisted. An hour? More? I kept working and the reek kept lingering. No voices, no sound of hammering. Just birds and crickets, and as far as I know, none of them have taken up smoking.
Continue reading “Smoke Signals: Notes on Phantosmia”
Shannon E. Williams 