Little Victories - a Column by Matthew Lafleur

On the long drive home from rideATAXIA Dallas, I asked the driver, my buddy Ryan, for his overall takeaway from our weekend trip. “I feel like I understand you and your life a little better,” he managed to say before we drove into a rainstorm and…

They couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t try, and my absolute refusal surprised me, too. Downtown Los Angeles in 2005 was unfamiliar to me, in a good way. It was a combination of sunshine and sea breeze, and the heat was crisp and enjoyable, unlike the sweaty…

I first encountered a service dog accompanying a person with Friedreich’s ataxia (FA) three years ago. I had met my friend and fellow FARA ambassador Andrea and she had her beautiful black Lab, Ramada, with her. I could tell right away that Ramada was more…

My unharnessed wheelchair swerved unexpectedly. I reached out to grab onto something so that I wouldn’t flip over. Riding in the back of my former wheelchair-accessible van was challenging. It had been adapted for a power wheelchair, but after grad school, with no big…

Sitting at my computer in my room, I barely noticed that everything had gotten dimmer. It wasn’t until I looked up that I noticed that one of the four bulbs on my ceiling fan was smoky gray and lifeless. I rolled my eyes at the slight inconvenience, then…

  I look forward to lazy Sundays. Nothing feels more familiar, more like my childhood, more like home. I brush aside any work or obligations, finding comfort in choosing to do nothing. So, whether I’ve been super productive and finished all my work earlier…

I’ve been down this road before and it doesn’t end up anywhere good. Following that thought, I swallowed the pill laid out for me and rushed to the bathroom to finish getting ready for school. As a teenager, I was pretty ambivalent.

The theater was packed. It was unseasonably warm for February in Washington, D.C., and my Cajun blood was thankful. The details of that Sunday night in 2018 may have blurred in my memory, but the overall message from that week has stayed with me.

I find it easy to identify myself as a person with Friedreich’s ataxia (FA). In light of the significant effects that FA has on my life, I have no problem acknowledging myself as “Matt Lafleur, a guy with FA.” Full stop. But as I get…

A small wooden trinket hangs on the back of my wheelchair. It’s a navy blue anchor with hand-painted white letters: “Cure” is written down the anchor’s stem and “FA” at its base. A rustic brown cord loops through the top of the ornament…