Danita LaShelle Jones,  —

Danita currently calls Madison, Alabama, home. She and her husband raise four exceptional children, one of which lives with hereditary angioedema — Ladybug. As a caregiver, Danita hopes that her column will show other caregivers and patients that they’re not alone. Championing the idea to “inform the world,” she seeks to reveal HAE in such a way that even if it’s rare for an individual to have it, it isn’t rare for everyone to know about it.

Articles by Danita LaShelle Jones

What to Do When You Don’t Know What to Do

The familiar ding of the message notification pulled me out of my deep concentration. Between article deadlines, productions meetings, and numerous writing consultations, I was used to pausing to answer messages from clients, actors, and editors. So I lazily picked up my phone and opened the messaging app, only to…

The Dangerous Practice of Living in Anticipation

The cast was revving up for the midsong dance break, with 16 counts left. Because the performers occupied the stage and the floor, I took weeks to choreograph the musical number to account for my high school students’ safety. Nevertheless, I smiled as the audience, a captivated crowd of dinner…

Having an Excellent Reason to Raise Your Voice

“Nope!” I said matter-of-factly to my general practitioner. “The only thing that does is make me feel loopy.” “We can’t have that,” he replied. He jotted something down on his trusty prescription pad, ripped off the top sheet, and handed it to me. “Let me know if this works for…

As Caregivers, We Must Take the Time to Take Some Time

It was almost over. The fine arts magnet school I attended was almost done with a Broadway-worthy, 13-show run of the school’s Christmas musical. The musical itself was a massive undertaking. “Mr. Grumpy’s Toy Shop” (an adaptation of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”) involved over 300 students, historically…

Having Good Help in the Right Places

In my mind, it happened in slow motion. I didn’t have time to react in real time as my poor compact car was broadsided by a vehicle that had ill-timed the changing of the light. Sixteen-year-old me was stunned and bleeding, but grateful I could get out of the car.