Little Victories - a Column by Matthew Lafleur

Main graphic for column titled "Little Victories," Friedreich's Ataxia News, by Matthew Lafleur Matthew's life doesn’t look like what he imagined when he was an active Cajun boy. Once diagnosed at age 11 with Friedreich’s ataxia, he threw himself into books, writing, and studies, achieving a bachelor’s degree in English and a master’s degree in mental health counseling. Writing a column at Friedreich’s Ataxia News and serving as the associate director of columns for its parent company BioNews is a perfect combination of his two degrees. He notes life’s small, often overlooked successes in his column. In progressive disability, Matt tries to notice his little victories, hoping that others notice their own ... or something like that.

How Thinking Differently Saves My Life

One and one always equals two, at least that’s how most people see it. Sometimes simple, concrete facts are comforting, especially for people diagnosed with progressive diseases, where we can’t trust our own abilities day-to-day. But I believe my ability to thrive depends on being able to see the world…

Finding Comfort in a New Normal

“You need to go easier on yourself,” my friend told me. I was busy berating myself for having a bad week when my symptoms of Friedreich’s ataxia (FA) seemed to spike all at once. I did stop blaming myself, as my friend suggested. Instead, I thought…

Crawling Toward Fitness as My Abilities Change

My arms couldn’t hold my body up in a crawling position any longer, so I face-planted on the matted floor in defeat, yet with a small, self-satisfied smile. As I lay collapsed on my stomach, my physical therapist towered above me and yelled triumphantly, “You just crawled across…

COVID-19 Vaccines Bring Relief for Many, Envy for Some

Despite whatever successes we saw in 2020, the year mostly will be remembered for a pandemic that affected almost everyone on the planet. Though the death, financial hardships, joblessness, and isolation due to COVID-19 are devastating, humanity may find an end to this horror soon.

My Diagnosis Isn’t the Entirety of Who I Am

An old tree once stood beside a creek far behind my childhood home. It wasn’t on my family’s property, but because wild blackberries grew there, I was willing to trespass to get to the ripe berries. After eating a handful of them, I’d rest my back against the old tree…