Little Victories - a Column by Matthew Lafleur

It wasn’t a comfortable feeling. With every press of my physical therapist’s tiny handheld pump, the edges of a small plastic cup seemed to pinch my skin a little more tightly. I had several suction cups placed on my arms, hips, and legs.

No. Thank you for reading this week’s column. *** Just kidding! I want to unpack that question, because it is a valid one. Plus, the answer has a pretty interesting backstory. I am a columnist without any real scientific training,…

“It’s just hard to be around you,” she told me. She looked down. She hated these harsh words, too. Over time, I’d learn to accept them and even be grateful for her. One day, I’d appreciate how she didn’t sugarcoat her message.

I opened the door to my closet yesterday morning to pick out my shirt for the day. Most of my shirts are solid earth tones, showcasing how boring I am. As I scanned the hanging T-shirts, my eyes lingered on one. This particular shirt always seems…

I don’t believe I’m a lucky person. But I’m relieved that the area where I live escaped massive devastation from Hurricane Laura, which made landfall in the southern U.S. last week.  Videos like this show the destruction Laura caused in Lake Charles, Louisiana, just…

I’ve been thinking a lot about whodunits lately, those stories with a masked villain who is finally revealed at the end of the tale. From slasher flicks to “Scooby-Doo” episodes, much of the suspense and spookiness lies in the mystery. The veiled monsters are…

Aug. 7 was a big day. Some groundbreaking news came out in the rare disease world: the U.S. Food and Drug Administration approved a new treatment for spinal muscular atrophy (SMA) that will be available to patients soon. What is…

I’m not patient. Not at all.  I think it’s funny that people with debilitating health conditions often are seen as being patient and tolerant. We seem to be superhuman, persistent, and serene in our daily activities, no matter how long they take or how much we…

I remember getting to the pool early one summer morning before swimming lessons began. I wasn’t a swim teacher per se; I was more of a teacher’s assistant. The head instructor had me and the instructors my age do a lifeguard training exercise.

“Well look at that,” the doctor remarked, obviously impressed.  The wonder in his voice made me grin a little bit. Any positive physical change with progressive Friedreich’s ataxia is a little victory.  I had just swung my legs off the…