So you’re missing a limb or two, you’re not an athlete, but you still want to live an active life? Start here:

I did gymnastics as a kid, but those skills were long gone by the time I lost my right leg in December 2019..

Thank God It's Friday, a sentiment felt around the world. There is a bit more pep in your sneaker-clad step as you head out on your lunch break, dressed in business casual attire. Plans for happy hour margaritas are made, and the clock ticks ever so slowly toward 5 pm. Today I asked myself what Friday means to me, and I thought that perhaps it means something a little different to each of us…

My heart starts to pick up pace as my chest tightens up. Then the tension rolls down my neck towards my shoulders, locking them in an upright, stiff position. I can already visualize my chiropractor smirking and correcting my posture as he reminds me to sit up straight and bring my shoulders back…

This week at work, I felt like a dartboard. It seemed like even the most patient and kind of people came barreling towards me, one after another, with verbal attacks and accusations using hurtful words as swords…

July is Disability Pride Month as well as Sarcoma Awareness Month. Both heavily intertwined in my life in such a way, that one caused the other. I still remember the first time I realized that I had a disability. It wasn't when I woke up from surgery in the hospital with one less limb, it was actually later on while filling out medical leave paperwork…

It’s sunny, the frozen margaritas are flowing, shorts-and-sandals season has arrived. Cities are reopening after lockdown, and travel restrictions are slowly being lifted. You’re feeling ready to gallivant in the sunshine and work on your tan at the beach. The only problem? You wear a prosthesis…

I don't have many regrets. I could have studied a little harder in school and mended some friendships sooner, but looking through old photos over the last week has stirred up some emotions about the person I once was. Maybe it was how clearly I could spot my tumor on the side of my right knee, or maybe it was that I still had a right leg…

Alas, bikini season is upon us. Although I've taken countless dips in my own pool within the privacy of my backyard at this point, my residual limb has not yet made her debut in a more public setting…

My most prized possession, the most expensive thing I own, my prosthesis. I fought so hard to have one of my very own. Just like any power couple, we have our ups and downs. It's not me, it's you... well, sometimes it's me…

Now that I'm part robot, I often wonder how great it would be if I could just plug myself in at night the way I do my prosthesis, wake up fully charged, and ready to take on the day.Since that device doesn't exist... yet, and carrying around this prosthesis requires 30% more energy than the average person uses to walk, I've had to get crafty to keep myself going…

I'm a member of a somewhat exclusive, not exactly optional, pretty scary club. The cancer club. Have it, had it, beat it, still fighting, you're in, just like that. Fair warning, you will bond with strangers from all across the world and not everyone will make it. How do we cope?

Something has been building up lately and slowly making my blood boil so here it is. Why do strangers think it’s OK to ask about my disability?