From the Caregiver's HAErt — Danita LaShelle Jones

“You all shut down the city for this?” a social media user asked. “We call this a regular day in Montana,” another chimed in. Around this time of year, those of us born and…

Had I known Yelp existed back then, the outing would have received zero out of five stars. After hearing great things about a nature walk from one of our outdoorsy friends, my husband and…

I put down my phone in mild frustration. Like many people around this time of year, I’m trying to practice healthier habits in my daily routine. Yet, the app I downloaded was hindering my…

It was over. Sixteen seconds into a semifinal qualifying race at the 1992 Barcelona Olympics, Derek Redmond grabbed the back of his leg and hit the ground with a torn hamstring. All hopes…

While I’m sure there are more terrifying things to face on earth, I’m also sure my father couldn’t think of any as we picked up speed, careening backward down a steep hill. “Put the…

“Norm!” the bar occupants yell in unison. The long-running sitcom “Cheers” centered around a quaint bar in Boston and the regular patrons who frequented it. One of its tropes was the gleeful recognition of…

Of all the ways to wake up, my aching face in a pool of water ranked pretty low. Unfortunately, that wasn’t something I knew until it happened. After very extensive surgery to remove four…

The panic in my production headset had reached a frenzy. Seconds before my boss was to walk on stage in front of thousands of people, the mechanism that was supposed to display his slides…

At the sound of her name, the entire auditorium erupted. Seconds later, everyone, even the losers, were on their feet, with some crying tears of joy. The standing ovation lingered for almost two minutes,…

Despite a doctor suggesting the possibility, caregiver Danita LaShelle Jones wasn't ready for her daughter's hereditary angioedema diagnosis. It took time, but eventually she was able to accept their new reality.

“I’m a winner, and I’m special, and Jones don’t take no stuff. No stuff!” “Say it again!” I yelled rhythmically to our 5-year-old as I drove him to school. “I’m a winner,” he repeated,…

With 20 minutes until the appointment and an 18-minute drive, I’d run out of any wiggle room for anything that might delay me in getting the twins to the pediatrician on time. Although I…