22 years later: My strength may fade, but my hope never will

22 years later: My strength may fade, but my hope never will

It’s that time of year. The month of September always brings around mixed feelings for me. Sept. 12, 2019 marks the 22nd anniversary of the day I became a quadriplegic.

I can’t believe it’s been over two decades since I lost my ability to move my arms and legs. It seems like yesterday when I was in the intensive care unit clinging to life. Looking back year after year, it is amazing to think about how I overcame such insurmountable odds. And while that was 22 years ago, my childhood is even farther away.

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Fried fish, a wheelchair and an impromptu handshake

Fried fish, a wheelchair and an impromptu handshake

This is a thread about an encounter I experience all to often as a person with a disability.

Yesterday, I was eating dinner at a local fish place with my dad when a man came up to the table and asked to shake my dad’s hand.

“I just wanted to shake your hand and say it’s awesome what you do,” he said. “I have a son with a disability too.”

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