We reached downtown just as the sun began to set. San Francisco at dusk is a bustling place. Brakes squeaking, fluorescent lights flashing and illuminating windows of bars and restaurants. Rush hour traffic cramps the streets. Street lights begin to light one after the other. You can catch a host of different people walking during this time. A young twenty-something wearing a beanie and a messenger bag, coffee in hand, surely heading to a poetry reading or open mic night. The business savvy woman in heels hustling to…

disability

Being sick changes you. For a host of different reasons, I’ve caught myself daydreaming recently–remembering moments in my pre-sick life where I felt normal. My sense of normal was pretty ridiculous. I used to travel a lot. I’ve been white water rafting on the Nile River in Uganda. I went “surfing” off the Pacific coast of rural Nicaragua. Spent the night in the executive lounge in the Amsterdam airport. Strolled the tea fields outside Nairobi, Kenya. Went deep sea fishing in Aruba. Napa Valley. Sedona. Chicago.