While I always wanted to “fit in,” as a child and as an adult, I have been called to lead an extraordinary and unconventional life. One that is steeped in experience and learning appreciation for life in all of its forms. From traveling to Australia during college to discovering love on wheels, again and again, I am called to be an adventurer. The road is full of amazing relationships, the deep heartache of loss, and the soaring elation of success.
COLOR
“
Sadly, she passed away in 2001 due to a reaction to a medication, recalled by the FDA and is somehow still on the market. As a young adult experiencing motherloss and dismissed when speaking to her physicians, I am still working through remaining effects of grief – how to work through the medical system, one that is fraught with life-saving advances and devastating caveats. How to grow old gracefully, take care of my body, and understand the limits of traditional medicine is a complicated process, one that I continue to navigate.
WHEELS
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After my mother passed away, I was surviving life, but not living it. Introduced to martial arts one day by some friends, I showed up knowing I needed to discover how to live again. I worked through my grief, not only from the loss of my mother but of a relationship as well. I wasn’t expecting to find love. And love showed up before my eyes. I fell in love with a man who has Cerebral Palsy who is a poet, martial artist, and adventurer.
Over the years, we’ve lived through many experiences that have challenged us. In our life and love together, I have experienced the depth and color of life and all that it has to offer to us. Whether we are travelling across the country or in deep conversation staring at the oak tree in the back yard, every day I am challenged to live each day deeper than the last.
Everyone seems to be intrigued about how we live our lives. Every day we have an opportunity to break down barriers and stereotypes about inter-ability relationships, sharing our story through how we live.
When others see Barton and I together, they see a love and joy that we bring to life, and we often break down barriers. If people see a man in a wheelchair living life out loud, then why can’t we all?
What limits do we place on ourselves every day.
A RARE
ENIGMA
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In late 2016, during a time of great uncertainly in my life, I had a medically necessary hysterectomy. Devastated by the diagnosis they year before, I spent a lot of time and energy planning logistics (financial, medical, care for myself and my husband), creating a space of healing with as little stress as possible, and designing surgery on my own terms, using both scripts and music. I was supported by family, friends, and colleagues after surgery. For someone who distrusts doctors and is afraid of taking any medicine at all, this was one of the most difficult experiences for me to live through.
Since the surgery, I began showing symptoms that puzzled the experts. Physicians with lifetimes of experience could not figure out what was going on or what to do to resolve the symptoms. After many invasive tests and procedures, I was diagnosed with a rare complication from surgery, an inclusion cyst at the site of the internal stitches with a possible fistula. In most cases, inclusion cysts grow and re-occur, and the quality of life is very low due to reoccurring drainage and surgeries. Right now, there is no growth, and the thought is infection is unlikely. There are localized bacterial issues, and again, no consensus on treatment. Even the specialists can’t agree with each other. There is no cure and no treatment other than choosing surgery (of which I’m not), self-treatment with probiotics (great but damn expensive) and nutrition (of which I totally suck), and a good dose of acceptance (a perpetual work in progress). And living life on my own terms.
I am the enigma.
And I am living. The marrow out of life. Everyday.
EACH ONE OF US HAS OUR OWN
STORIES
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Experiences that shape our lives. These experiences, wanted or unwanted, shift the trajectory of our lives onto a new course. Collectively and individually, as we navigate our life experiences, we need supporters, champions along the way. The journey is long, it is not a race, there is no finish line, and there are no right answers.
And – we can still live the depth of life that these experiences offer us.