My road came to an unexpected halt on November 9, 2010.

I was bicycling to work that morning when a garbage truck drove into a Philadelphia bike lane. I was in that bike lane.

Trauma surgeons saved my life, but they had to amputate my left leg above the knee. The accident changed my body and health forever.

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.

For more than a decade, that journey has become my way of moving through the world.

I am a person with ability and disability. I travel in the space between. These are my postcards.

Saturday, August 6, 2022

Love Is Blind (and so is my digestive system)

Cheers from Mile Marker 10,530...

...at the Outpatient Imaging Center.

It's not the best selfie, but when you toast with a supersize of contrast solution, you get what you get. 

The guy next to me (which by COVID standards means down the hall) is drinking two tall bottles of what looks like Muscle Milk.  

"It's a bit chalky," he says.

"Mine's kind of minty," I shoot back.  It tastes like water mixed with toothpaste.  You might even call it a Crest Cocktail.  

Between sips, we yank our masks up and down.

The man tells me he has a test at Nuclear Medicine tomorrow.

I tell him that one time, they had to put this drink down my NG tube.  (TMI?)

It's like an awkward first date at the worst restaurant ever...