I live with a broken brain and PTSD--but that doesn't stop me! I'm an author, artist, and qualified mediator who loves life's detours.
I co-authored NOT CANCELLED: Canadian Kindness in the Face of COVID-19. I also publish horror stories.
Sorry I Ate Your Face
Ever have one of those social mishaps you’ll never forget? Ever become so mortified you think you might die from it? Yeah, me too. In fact, this little episode was so humiliating that I thought I might literally die. Yes, literally. I could have choked to death, but in that moment, I felt dying might very well be the less awkward option. But now, two years into COVID, I find I’m nostalgic for those discomfiting moments that can only occur when we meet in person. And this truly embarrassing tale is from ‘the before times’, when we could participate in ‘meet and eat’ events.
Play IT, Sam
“Play it, Sam…” I’d had enough of the Casablanca references since I began playing piano at the dingy Kings Court hole-in-the-wall. My name wasn't Sam, and this dump would never be your choice if you were searching for the charms of Morocco.
In the End, We Were Champions
Here’s a photo. Two hands, one over the other. Intimate. Each hand wearing a mammoth ring. Identical rings. And that snapshot is a moment in time, a moment captured, because at least one of the owners of those hands believes that it could be the last time for those hands, together, one over the other.
I Tricked My Dad When I Knew He Was Dying
In January 2021, my dad apologized to me. “I know I missed some of your birthdays,” he said. “Is there anything you’d like to have?”
Am I Cracking the Self-care Code?
Today I did something I’ve never done before. Something I never imagined I would do. Funny, I thought it would be a tougher decision; I assumed I would argue with myself, and then pile on the shame and disappointment.
When I look back now, my childhood was full of what I’d call rural gothic horror. We weren’t like kids today, who are tethered by smartphones and GPS. We pretty much did what we wanted, so long as we weren’t caught.
I Got Beat Up in Our Dog Park
Ever wonder why I talk about brain injury and PTSD so much? I’ve sustained at least four concussions, plus meningitis, and two of those brain injuries were partnered with PTSD. The first, in 1985, and the biggie, in 2011, resulted in PTSD and PCS (post-concussion syndrome).
CHRISTMAS AT NANA'S
Christmas dinner was finally ready, and Nana called the family to the table. The presents had been opened; fragments of wrapping paper had already lodged themselves into the sofa cushions and underneath the coffee table. Any initial excitement of the day had long since waned, and the family had retreated to its regular routine. But now it was time to eat and go home.
THE KNIFE (A Christmas Story)
This is a paring knife. It lives in our kitchen. And here is its story. (Insert Law & Order ‘duh-duh’ here).
Concussion? I'm Gonna Tell You What Your ER Doc Won't
You’ve had a concussion. Conked your cranium. Bonked your brain. Knocked your noggin. Beaned your bean. Shaken your shell.
PLEASE! Don't Make Your Kid Hug Me This Christmas
I don’t want to hug your kids. I don’t want to hug them at Christmas, or when I visit, or when we run into each other at the mall.
I Was the Best Faker Ever
I'm true to myself now, and it's not gonna happen. Not today. Sometimes that’s enough. I can say that, now. There were days when I’d wake up wishing I hadn’t, and days when I’d consider driving my car as fast as I could, over a bridge or into a brick wall.