Mile Marker 5479:
"That's not a SKIN leg!"
From across a cobblestone alley, I hear the most creative (and cutest) take on my prosthetic leg.
It comes from a 4-year-old girl with a shiny bob haircut. She's pointing. At me.
My road came to an unexpected halt on November 9, 2010.
That morning, I was bicycling to work when a garbage truck turned across a city bike lane. I was in that bike lane.
A team of trauma surgeons saved my life, but they had to amputate my left leg. My body and life were forever changed.
The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.
As I learned to walk again, I measured my recovery in steps and then miles. Over time that journey grew into something more -- a way of being in the world, wherever I go.
I am a person of ability and disability. I travel in the space between. These are my postcards.
Monday, September 25, 2017
Friday, September 1, 2017
Mountain Time
Mile Marker 5400:
Halfway between Woodstock and Thornton is a place that runs on mountain time.
When the sun rises, I'm awakened by real birds, not the artificial "birdsong" of my iPhone alarm. And instead of walking to get coffee, I drive 9 miles.
Halfway between Woodstock and Thornton is a place that runs on mountain time.
When the sun rises, I'm awakened by real birds, not the artificial "birdsong" of my iPhone alarm. And instead of walking to get coffee, I drive 9 miles.
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