It's cold out. The sky: gray. The air: crisp. The leaves: moribund. Don't get me wrong. I love fall just as much as any other basic white girl. In fact, I'm sipping on a spiced latte as I type this. See? But I get anxious as autumn rolls around--not because of the ten months of …
My dear friends, you motivated this little blog. I started it, after being told by quite a few of you how badly you wanted to ask about my MS, but didn't know how. I'm hoping that my first few entries have been helpful for you—they certainly have been for me. Disease makes me uncomfortable, too. …
it's only a bruise. 