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.
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…
Before I had a smartphone to help me pass the time, I was OK. I was easily entertained in waiting rooms, whether I read outdated magazine articles or focused on a TV with the volume either blaringly loud or so quiet that I’d have to strain to hear…
Sometimes we prefer not to be seen. I know how that feels. Growing up, I loved being almost invisible, whether I was pretending to be a spy or playing one of my favorite games with my cousins, hide-and-seek in the dark. I…
This isn’t where I’m supposed to be, I thought. My power wheelchair’s mechanic whine echoed through the underbelly of the LSU football stadium, known by Tiger fans as Death Valley. As I rolled through the Valley of Death, the lump in…
BioNews Services is launching a new project on Jan. 22: the Friedreich’s Ataxia News Forums. This will be a place for all of those affected with FA — patients, caregivers, family members, close friends, and significant others — to sign up, post, and comment on messages about…
Spoiler alert: In this column, I’ll review the popular Netflix movie “Bird Box.” I explore the movie’s ending. If you like suspenseful sci-fi movies, I recommend watching it first, then returning to this column. Be aware that the movie plot includes mass suicides. *** Across…
“What’s your resolution?” This time of year, redefinition is almost a buzzword. Resolutions and goals are a hailstorm assault on social media. As the calendars mark another complete orbit around the sun, the timing seems perfect to redefine yourself, to create a better…
Writing this column has really been a joy for me. A significant source of worry with a progressive disorder like Friedreich’s ataxia (FA) is the difficulty of finding a job. As my physical abilities lessen, my job prospects shrink. It would seem like…
On any typical day at my middle school, the closer you were to the bench, the higher your social status. It was a cheaply made concrete bench, painted over at least three times, judging by the multicolored paint chips littering its surroundings. Nothing separated this bench from…
Sometimes I use my introversion as an excuse. It’s safe and secure; it’s familiar not to expose myself to unfamiliar situations. I find safety and comfort in familiarity. “So what if I fall asleep and miss the meet-and-greet?” I asked my…
Drowsily and with great effort, I hoisted the top half of my body upright in the hotel bed. Before I drifted off, I groggily but sincerely asked my friend Sajid in the bed next to mine, “You ready for some real talk?” He was…
There is something magnetic and almost hypnotic about a bonfire, I thought, as the unexpected snap of a burning stick spooked us all. My small cluster of shadowy friends gathered this evening, one of the first cool fall nights in my sophomore year of college. The…
It doesn’t make sense, and I’ve given up trying to figure it out. It’s a silly video sponsored by a chewing gum company that paid a man to travel the world and film himself doing his goofy dance in 42 countries.
Last in a series of reflections on a recent vacation to Turks and Caicos. Read previous reflections here. “I began my vacation today,” Jake told me over video chat. That lazy Sunday seemed like a great start to a vacation. It was…
A continuation of a series of reflections on a recent vacation to Turks and Caicos. In this column, I take a rainy boat ride and am confronted by my uneasiness with asking for help. Read previous reflections here. ***…
In this reflection on a vacation to the Turks and Caicos Islands, I focus on time spent with my nephew Jace. Check out my earlier thoughts on traveling with Friedreich’s ataxia here. *** One of my goals on this…
In this reflection on a vacation to the Turks and Caicos Islands, I discuss the purpose of my trip: my incredible mom. Check out my earlier thoughts on traveling with Friedreich’s ataxia here. At the resort, I found a spot where the…
First in a series of reflections on a recent vacation to an amazing resort on Providenciales island in Turks and Caicos. In the cramped seat of the plane, nothing was going right. Moments earlier, in the…
“What’s next for me?” I remember asking my friend, sitting across the table from me at a popular and kitschy restaurant. My friend was used to me being melodramatic; the brutal somberness I’d conjured was juxtaposed by the checkered green tablecloth on which I…
“I get him, and he gets me,” Cassandra states as if it’s obvious. Her boyfriend Roland can be seen in the background of this shot, acting goofy and dancing in his wheelchair. As they sat at a table in the mall’s food court, Mary had…
“Don’t hold a glass over the flame/Don’t let your heart grow cold/I will call you by name/I will share your road.” –Mumford & Sons. “Matt?” my professor repeated for who knows how many times, interrupting the imaginary…
In my memory, we were always lithe and sure-footed. Two shadowy cat burglars, but with no inclination to steal. So, not burglars; we were spies. Spies! My aunt and uncle and their kids arrived at my house one Saturday. Our families got together almost every weekend…
I gritted my teeth. The August sun in south Louisiana pounded unrelentingly onto my head. Drops of sweat trickled down from my hairline, along the sides of my face. I’ve never really sweated very much, but since I started regularly riding a recumbent tricycle, I’ve found…
Reminders of life’s beginning and end kept cropping up unexpectedly this week. My 4-month-old niece was baptized, initiated into her parents’ faith, and began a journey. Days later, I heard from an online friend that his son died of complications from FA last year. A few…
In an instant, my plans and dreams vanished; I was left wandering through life with no set future, and it was scary. I can remember parts of that day in ’97: hopping onto a swiveling chair at my dad’s workplace, logging on AOL before…
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