This morning my right hip is very sore and so is much in my thoughts on the way in. I will do Tylenol and a heating pad when I get in. ( I carry Tylenol and have a heating pad in my desk drawer. This is the voice of experience.) 

Six months ago it was my wrists. I spent some time with occupational therapists learning to use my right hand. I remember times that keyboarding was excruciating. This was scary because it’s really hard to do my job without full use of my hands. The moral? Breath. It is highly probable that this to shall pass.    

I am looking for participants for a panel on being a disabled professional woman with a family etc. (Love, Marriage, Children, and Career … with challenges). This is in response to a CFP for Women's HerStory Month 2014 at BMCC.  If I'm going to pull this off, I'm going to need help.  I'm looking for others (besides me) who are doing this dance.  In particular, I'm looking for women, because I think women who are wives and mothers (and disabled) have a particular take on taking care of others, while taking care of ourselves.  I'm looking for both volunteers and referrals.  Please don't hesitate to refer this request to faculty or staff at your institution. Feel free to share my blog, my contact information etc.  I'm thinking somebody out there knows somebody who has combined these roles and can talk about how it works.

One of the blessings of my life is that what sets me apart are tweaks.  Little tiny variations that address who I am and what I have to cope with.  

I noticed something on the subway last night.  Up and down the car, folks were hanging on with one hand and holding their phone (or a book etc) with the other.  Not me.  I have to hang on with both hands.  Staying upright on a moving train (when you are me) takes a real act of concentration.  

I don't think I'm alone in this.  Don't we all have tweaks that make us unique?

Rousso, Harilyn. 2013. Don't call me inspirational: a disabled feminist talks back. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.