Twenty Nineteen

patient with iv line

The good news about bad news

In the past decade, going to the doctor has felt a bit like guzzling apple cider vinegar while walking barefoot on hot coals. Not exactly

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woman standing near marble pillars

Suffering’s Invitation

I remember the first time I visited the White House. I admired it from behind its wrought-iron fence, a tourist with a camera. The second

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unpacked boxes in middle of room


I’ve moved fifteen times in fourteen years, and here I am again—purging bedrooms and packing cardboard boxes. Pretty sure I could do this in my

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