Columns

We all have those days with CF when the coughing is nonstop and the energy has fizzled long before the clock sounds noon. Unfortunately, low-energy days don’t magically retract our responsibility to lend a hand around the house. Maybe you are a parent chasing chaotic babies and tripping over blocks…

After 37 hours of travel, I landed in Belgrade, Serbia. I hopped in a cab and rolled past rows of rusted relics — airplanes of various centuries, including the rotting wreckages of NATO planes that once carried disastrous payloads during the ruinous Yugoslav Wars of the 1990s.

Cystic fibrosis has slowly, but surely, been creeping and nosing into parts of my life previously untouched. Just the other day I was watching a morning routine video on YouTube. All I could think was, “Wow. That looks like such a nice and productive morning. I should…

Let’s make this very clear: I don’t think I need to defend myself when it comes to the decisions that I make in my life with cystic fibrosis. However, I am a firm believer in the idea that with a greater understanding of others’ experiences comes greater empathy, and finally,…

I’m flyin’ high. Or maybe flyin’ buzzed. My transplant docs say “drink only in moderation,” and I am, smuggling sips via a straw tucked into my N99 mask. It’s a pathetically tiny plastic cup of white wine, but evidently, I can’t handle much. Don’t judge. I know people…

As I sat down to write my column for this week, a massive wave of writer’s block hit me. This has been plaguing me for a while. Great timing, right?! I started five different column pieces, each of which I would get a solid start…

I’m no stranger to home IV antibiotics. Actually, if I am being completely honest, I think we have gotten a little too friendly over the past decade or so. I prefer to do home IVs because I am one of those patients who goes a little nuts after being trapped…

Confession: I failed kindergarten. It was open house night and my teacher showed my parents a line of class self-portraits. There were probably some overly large heads and outlandish skin colors, but you’d be able to tell they were drawings of humans. Then my parents saw mine: a…

Before the food-splattered kitchen floors, overly enthusiastic smiles, and nursery rhymes; before babbling “dadas” or “mamas” filled our living spaces; and before the arrival of my blond-haired, blue-eyed baby-treasure, there was just me. I am a college graduate sorority girl and an eternal optimist who is constantly sipping my glass-half-full…

  It starts with chemicals too small to see. Too little of this, too much of that. An imbalance. It becomes a dulled personality. A mixture of confusion and self-doubt morphing to disinterest. A void. It becomes feeling awake while asleep and feeling asleep while awake. It becomes…