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.

The Tale of Two Truths

Of all the places to have a meltdown, mine happened in the parking lot of the public library. Last summer, my daughter, whom we affectionately call Ladybug, was hospitalized several times overnight due to hereditary angioedema (HAE). When she was at home, I had to administer multiple IV sticks…