Lying stuck in my hospital bed during the latest of many hospital stays, I reflected on the drastic turns and changes my life had taken.
For ten years I’d enjoyed a busy, fulfilling life as a pediatrician, educator and writer. Then, in the summer of 2020, my life had lurched from 100 miles per hour to a full stop. I’d become progressively weaker and easily grew winded when walking.
Making it through medical training, an ableist system, with a disabled body, took all the grit I could summon. In residency, I managed severe pain and exhaustion from an autoimmune condition. Work hours were grueling, and I needed to sleep nearly every minute I was not in the hospital. Attending medical appointments or working make-up shifts for peers who covered sick call in my “free time” on post-call days was torture.
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