You Have Dystonia?

I have D-Y-S-T-O-N-I-A? No, it’s not a former Soviet Socialist Republic but a neurological movement disorder.

So what is Dystonia? Let’s set aside medical formalities and fast-forward to practical realities. Imagine you’re trying to jot down a grocery list and, quite inconveniently, someone jerks your elbow up and down, making it difficult – if not impossible – to control your writing. Or maybe you tackle something complicated like walking across a room. You lift your leg to begin that first step when a mischievous troll screws up your balance by pulling your foot inward, causing you to land on the side of your foot and desperately search for stability. Simultaneously, some imp twists your knee while your hip dips and swings in a motion that would swirl a hula-hoop.

Welcome to my Dystonia!


16542931_sLast month, I aced my starring role during neurosurgery. Now that my neurostimulators have been powered on, I find myself in a constant state of heightened hyper-awareness of my movements making my body the “star” of every moment.

This new chapter in my DBS saga began at my first programming session. I arrived determined to keep rising expectations at bay. Deftly manipulating her remote control unit, my savvy programmer began to work her magic. She turned the key in the ignition and took each “launch pad” on my electrodes for a test ride in search of signs of rough driving ahead.

Like my oral meds, neurostimulation can exert unwanted “side effects.” Now that all systems are go, I’m perpetually on the lookout for an inimical twist, twitch, jerk, grimace or spasm as I continually search for signs that the electric pulses in my brain are exerting some untoward effect. I struggle to recall the details of my involuntary motions pre-DBS for purposes of comparison but find this to be a futile task thanks to the ever-changing choreography of my Dystonia.

In the meantime, I’m officially electronically enabled. I stand before you a BATTERY emPOWERED FEMALE “humming” strong at 2.5 volts! With my handy remote, I can power myself on and off like a TV set. Plug me into an outlet, and I’ll light up the room!

New York City Taxis: Where’s The Beef?

26323991 - taxi driver - road rageAs I made my way to my first DBS programming session during the chaos marking morning rush hour, I was abruptly reintroduced to the inhumanity inhabiting my fair city. Hardly the picture of health, I stood braced against my walker, a colorful flowered scarf sculpting my recently shaven head, watching taxi after off-duty taxi unceremoniously sail by me – patently ignoring my hand wildly flailing through the air in an act of deliberate motion having nothing to do with my Dystonia. I couldn’t help but surmise that cab drivers hold no interest in attending to my walker. Where was Sir Galahad, galloping up Third Avenue to rescue me on his black and white checkered horse majestically draped in yellow?

I concluded that I needed to park my walker at the curb behind me and hail a taxi as a solo act. Of course, as soon as I turned towards the sidewalk, my gallant appeared, sharply braking beside me. Putting his fellow cab drivers to shame, he whisked my walker into the trunk with aplomb, After all, it doesn’t take Mr. Universe to manipulate a few pounds of folded metal.

I hold abject disappointment in NYC’s private transportation corps, which, for a pretty penny, is my first line of defense against the perils I face using public transportation.



My Starring Role During Neurosurgery: The Woman In The Iron Mask!

15140731 - medieval knight helmet knight head in helmet

Hollywood’s leading ladies have nothing on me and my starring role in a “surgical trilogy” featuring a brilliant neurosurgeon, his drill, cutting-edge guidance technology, and two electrodes taking a slip into my brain for an ongoing adventure of electrical proportion. Best supporting actor goes to the strong-armed “villain” in this medi-drama, the metal vise that fiercely immobilized me every step of the way. The hero, my Mount Sinai neurosurgeon, cool as a cucumber, assumed command over his troops in the OR. His team took no prisoners, bolting me to the operating table to set the stage for the drilling…but with my neurosurgeon controlling the scene, this dystonia damsel was hardly “in distress!” As for the “awake” part, our tete a tete during surgery was largely surreal as my “leading man” filled my field of vision during our big dramatic moment and I lacked a bird’s-eye view of the surgical scene. I’ve absolutely no recollection of the drilling.

Having considered – and rejected – DBS oh so long ago, I needed a pinch to jolt me into reality as we traipsed about the hospital – vise securely in place – on our way to a pre-op CT-scan. You’ll find my verdict – since overturned – on this site in the article “Promises, Promises.”

With DBS, the waiting is the hard part. Until that all-important first procedure set a bar on my expectations, my overactive imagination embarked on a joy ride over the prospect of two “awake” brain surgeries in the span of one month. For those Dystonia warriors considering DBS, rest assured that the “idea” of these procedures is far more daunting than their reality – especially that fearsome metal vise. After the numbing injections, it’s smooth sailing ahead. If you can handle life with dystonia, you’ve got DBS!

Once the surgeries are completed, this surgical thriller morphs into a tale of suspense. Stay tuned for my BIG MOVIE ENDING, dramatically revealed in 3 to 6 months…

46552001 - handsome male nurse or doctor with glasses holding a blank medical clipboard and giving thumbs up on white background

My amazing Mount Sinai neurosurgeon is second to none!


Lions, Tigers and Bears, Year 2!

9287823_s editedLiving with a rare disease like Dystonia, I find myself self-conscripted into service as a fundraiser. It’s all rather simple: If I don’t invite people to care about my little-known disorder, who will? Curing Dystonia takes a village of patients, friends, and families…not to mention the medical investigators working diligently on our behalf!

I’ve also discovered that FUNdraising can indeed be FUN. Dystonia Zoo Walks empower us to advance our cause while checking out lions, tigers and bears, oh my!

For those who live in the New York City area, I hope to see you on September 18 for a memorable day of Dystonia fundraising and awareness at the Bronx Zoo. We offer a unique “twist” on traditional charity walks, as there’s no formal walking course. Jump-start your Sunday with family-friendly festivities – perhaps win a raffle prize – and then meander your way through the fabulous Bronx Zoo. Of course, you’re welcome on board Team Dystonia Muse! Can’t join in the fun? We’ve got you covered. Support us by making a donation.

Use the following link to register:  Bronx Zoo Walk Registration
You can sponsor me here:  Pamela Sloate’s Personal Page

From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for reading this blog and supporting my journey. With a team effort, we can eradicate Dystonia!


2016 Bronx Zoo Walk Postcard Image



Making Lemons Into Lemonade!

I’ve been a blond, brunette and redhead. Now I sport a skinhead. At the altar of DBS, the sacrificial lamb is my hair. So how to make the best of my untenable situation when there’s no use crying over spilled milk? My go-to guy is my “secret weapon:” the handy PhD Dystonia forced me to earn in “Making Lemons Into Lemonade!”

Turning Lemons Into Lemonade never disappoints. I laud the virtues to be found in identifying positive outcomes for our negative situations without unduly minimizing our struggles. My friends may reassure me that it’s ONLY my hair – which will certainly grow back – but my solace hardly lies in downplaying the significance of our locks. After all, I’m a female with a telling history of life-defining dos. Rather, I find my comfort recognizing the importance of our hair by making a donation. With a few trips to Google, I’d surveyed the landscape and located a nonprofit, Children With Hair Loss, more than happy to claim my mane, chemical highlights and all.

For those about to part with their hair or seeking to lighten their load, check out the following organizations spreading sunshine with their good works:

Children With Hair Loss
Locks of Love
Pantene Beautiful Lengths

Summer Sentenced Me To Hard Labor!

For those wondering how the prospect of two “awake” brain surgeries becomes palatable, let’s consider my relentless left foot, which seizes every small step as an opportunity to insist on an arduous detour. Walking takes on a whole new “twist” when the ever-present intervening destination is your next forward-intending movement. Even the shortest sojourn with my puppy becomes a true labor of love.

The upper echelons of the thermostat – even relatively moderate temperatures – stand amongst my triggers. At the onset of spring, exhaustion settles in for a multi-season stay, sentencing me to a summer of heavy breathing punctuated with plentiful naps. Ambulating ceases to be a means to an end and becomes an all-consuming focus, draining every ounce of my energy at the speed of light. As an added bonus, my tortured summer strolls invite back pain to settle in for an extended stay.

Surgeries anyone? Sign me up!

Surgeries Anyone?

Here’s an attractive offer:  Let’s shave off your hair, immobilize your head in a vise, drill a hole in your skull, insert an electrode into the right side of your brain, and wake you up for some fun in the sun before closing that hole. Then, invite you back to do it all again, left side this time – before implanting two battery-powered neurostimulators into your chest and snaking wires under your skin that enable us to activate those electrodes with electrical currents.

No, it’s not some twisted version of electric shock therapy but Deep Brain Stimulation (DBS) – perhaps not shocking your socks off but, hopefully, improving your neurological movement disorder, which is why you place that bet. Why not embark on a wild ride to slay the never-ending, hair-raising roller coaster commandeering life with dystonia?

Of course, your vanity interjects itself. After all, they’re shaving your head twice, replacing your lush – or not so lush – locks with a barren plain. As for the “awake” part, fancy chatting with your surgeon while he’s navigating an intruder into your brain. Then again, you find yourself trudging your way through your 30th college reunion, holding on to your walker for dear life as a once-familiar campus morphs into a forbidding obstacle course. Watch the impossible become plausible when mastering each step presents a triumph of will. Those looming procedures take on a whole new light, vanity and apprehension fading into luxuries you can ill afford.

All roads lead to Rome. Chin up, three surgeries, here I come!



13185761_sIn the movement disorder world, “fiddling” has nothing to do with a musical instrument. Like the baby bear sampling bowls of porridge, I’m forever fine-tuning my meds in an overarching effort to get things “just right.” My “fiddling” is motivated by a precarious balancing act featuring a myriad of distasteful side effects encroaching upon my quality of life.

Patients be warned: “fiddling” is for the bold and the brave, every adjustment laden with a risk-bearing proposition. In my present alternative reality, I’m battling the lingering damage inflicted by a downswing in my main med even though I’ve climbed my way back to my prior dose. Voila, the sole result presented by my most recent game of risk is the companionship of my walker. Apparently, elimination of my parade of side effects requires elimination of my anticholinergic, a venture to the Deep South I’ve yet to undertake.

But there’s a moral to this story as I seek to live life without regrets, well understanding that our meaning decisions unavoidably lack the luxury of hindsight.


45057482_sWith my walking in a state of disarray, I’m on the prowl for creative ways to count my blessings. My challenge is rather monumental. “Seek and you shall find” takes on a whole new meaning when it comes to discerning the silver lining in Dystonia.

I’ve discovered one “perk” traipsing the city streets with my puppy. Courtesy of the deterioration in my gait, our daily walks stand as true workouts, enabling me to indulge my sweet tooth without penalty. The collective force of my involuntary movements simulates a walk in a wind tunnel, leaving me breathless in the span of a few short blocks for a potent bout of cardio.

Convinced I’m burning calories with every laborious step, I entertain bizarre satisfaction struggling against my unruly muscles. In a nod to my inner obsessive-compulsive, I’m forever recalculating the territory I cover as I push forward to go the distance, awash in determination to ace at least one super-sized “power walk” each day. Another “perk” worthy of mention: nailing a generous swath of city blocks ensures I’ll be sleeping soundly that night.

I may count my victories in the slow lane but this sure beats counting calories!

Season’s Greetings From Chronicles Of A Dystonia Muse

6001779_s_Fotor Holiday 2015

Sending out my warmest wishes this Holiday Season.

May 2016 be a year blessed with peace, joy and hope for all!



Happy #GivingTuesday

45088058_s editedThanksgiving offers us a chance to give thanks for the treasures we enjoy – our families, friends, callings, the bounties decorating our lives. Most appropriately, Thanksgiving is followed by Giving Tuesday, a day bestowing the opportunity to actively express our thanks for all we have by giving to the causes in need of our support.

For me, this Giving Tuesday is particularly poignant as I celebrate The Martin & Roberta Sloate Dystonia Research Fund and the hope it embodies as we look forward to a better tomorrow. I’m forever grateful for my parents’ wide-reaching contributions to the Dystonia community in a heartfelt effort to make my world a better place and catalyze critical support for all families impacted by Dystonia.

I invite everyone to join with me in sending out a message of hope today on the occasion of Giving Tuesday. You can donate to the fund established in my parents’ honor at the Dystonia Medical Research Foundation, a place they called home, using the following link: The Martin & Roberta Sloate Dystonia Research Fund.



Life In The Trenches

5365287_s_editedI’ll confess, for most of my life, I didn’t view myself as “disabled,” reserving this term for those with even more extreme physical liabilities. Yes, I felt “different,” but it never occurred to me that Dystonia qualified me for membership in any kind of exclusive club.

In my confused reality, I viewed individuals with disabilities as mirrors of my own imperfections, reflecting a self-image I couldn’t bear. Now I simply see people whom I count among my closest friends for reasons that have everything to do with the spirit their hearts embrace. No saints or heroes, just soldiers on personal battlefronts waging reluctant but necessary combat. After all, life is lived in the trenches not on a pedestal.

My argument with the whole concept of disability is how it creates a notion of us vs. them. Those of us with chronic illness don’t conduct ourselves by majority rule or elect representatives to a special Disability Congress to proclaim declarations of common attitude and award badges of merit for supposed acts of heroism. We take our lives thought by thought, day by day.

Think you’re so far away? Challenges abound for all of us, what’s your struggle? You could even try it for a few minutes, an hour, a day. Blindfold yourself. Shake your arm every time you eat, drink, write, keystroke, or play an instrument. Spin around crazily, then swim and sway down the street. Attempt 24 hours in a wheelchair. Do you feel to be a “sore thumb” or is your entire attention focused on your tasks? How much of you feels “able” and how much “unable?” It’s not our physical differences that mark us with a scarlet “D” but how society finds the need to distinguish us by them. The only “sore thumbs” are those thusly viewed by the rest of the hand. How about examining the degree of perfection the other fingers can claim!

The lesson I try to embrace every day is that each of us is a composite of unique information, no one aspect so particularly remarkable that we stand out as any more “different” than the person sitting or standing next to us. When it comes to my personal data, Dystonia is a fact tucked into the details of my life that’s completely uninformative regarding my worth as a person. While Dystonia is a bit of a visual drama queen, why it should dictate a “one size fits all” label is beyond me…and unfortunate.

I’m just like everyone else. I carry hang-ups, sport frustrations, worry about inconsequential details, celebrate life, laugh, love, dream, and strive to hold inner peace. May you find yours as well.

Lions, Tigers & Bears, Oh My!

9287823_s editedLiving with chronic illness, we must strive to celebrate the moments where we find ourselves and seek out occasions to celebrate. Zoo Walks are cross-crossing the country and I’m thrilled to welcome the inaugural Bronx Zoo Walk to the Big Apple on Sun., Oct. 4, 2015.

This event is so much more than a FUNdraiser – it’s a wellspring for our hope and fuels our unity of purpose. Conditions like Dystonia disempower us from exercising full bodily autonomy as we transact the business of our everyday lives. The Zoo Walks present an opportunity to transform ourselves into empowers working to secure a better tomorrow. We’re looking to take one ferocious bite out of Dystonia and cage that wild beast!

I invite everyone to join the tri-state Dystonia community for a day of awareness and hope at the Bronx Zoo on Oct. 4. Proceeds benefit the Dystonia Medical Research Foundation (DMRF). You can register using the following link:  Bronx Zoo Walk Registration

Enjoy the zoo as part of Team Dystonia Muse by inputting “Dystonia Muse” as your team when registering. Note there’s no racing involved, just a leisurely day at the Bronx Zoo. If you’re unable to attend, you can join us in spirit by making a donation to Team Dystonia Muse here:  Donate To Team Dystonia Muse

I must include a warm thank you to the partners helping to ensure that the Bronx Zoo Walk is a memorable day: Allergan, Amsterdam Ale House, Bella Face Painting, Ben Asen Photography, Caricatoonist, Chocolate Works, Church Publick, Feinstein Institute for Medical Research at North Shore-LIJ, Ipsen, Lucy’s Whey, Magnolia Bakery, Massage By Touch Evolution, Merz, Mount Sinai Beth Israel, Parlor Steakhouse, Sarabeth’s, Serafina, Superior Soundz Entertainment, Third Avenue Ale House, US WorldMeds, Whole Foods Market, William Greenberg Desserts.

Check out these upcoming DMRF Zoo Walks:

Cincinnati Zoo Walk, Sept. 12, 2015
Register here:  Cincinnati Zoo Walk Registration

Cleveland Zoo Walk, Sept. 19, 2015
Register here:  Cleveland Zoo Walk Registration

Binghamton Zoo Walk, Sept. 19, 2015
Register here:  Binghamton Zoo Walk Registration

Pittsburgh Zoo Walk, Sept. 27, 2015
Register here:  Pittsburgh Zoo Walk Registration

POST SCRIPT-  Visit my Bronx Zoo Walk Photo Album on Facebook using the following link:  Bronx Zoo Walk Album.

Team Dystonia Muse

Our White House Petition Is Making A Comeback!

24351216_s EditedThe Dystonia Community welcomes September wearing our hearts on our sleeves. Patients, advocates and the foundations that support us have banded together to advance a new petition requesting official White House recognition of Dystonia Awareness Month. The magic number is 100,000 signatures by Sept. 24 and we’re amassing them one by one!

I urge everyone to stand with us in what is truly a collective effort. It only takes a minute to sign – how about sharing with five friends? Anyone age 13 or older living anywhere in the world can participate. Those outside the U.S. simply leave the zip code blank. Remember, your signature isn’t complete until you click on the confirmation link the petition site will email you.

Make a difference by signing here:  White House Petition.

It wouldn’t be September without a “Flash Mob.” We’re celebrating Dystonia Awareness Month with a social media block party! Join in the fun using the following link:  Dystonia Awareness Month Flash Mob.

Happy Dystonia Awareness Month!



My Pokey Little Puppy!

13898682_sIn the company of my pokey little puppy, I’m sure you can guess who’s been stealing the show! I’ve happily abdicated top billing to 12 pounds of furry delight while my metal co-star finds herself demoted to disgruntled supporting actress.

As life hairpins a 180-degree curve, I’ve discovered that those who notice my traveling crew assume my walker – purple and hot pink Sherpa ensconced snugly on the seat – serves at my puppy’s pleasure. Ironically, after a lifetime battling self-consciousness, I’m proactively advertising my need for a walking aid without a care.

Meanwhile, my Dystonia has taken a back seat to little Ellie as I traverse the miracles – and responsibilities – of motherhood. Housetraining poses a particular challenge when our summer strolls evoke the last leg of a marathon. As the thermostat ramps up, so goes my Dystonia. I trudge along the city’s streets drawing on every ounce of energy I can muster, braving sweltering weather I formerly shunned. When there’s no juice left, my walking devolves into a game of shuffleboard played out in a cloudy haze. Anything for my puppy, who stands infinitely more important than the “inconveniences” wrought by Dystonia.

The moral of my story: The very best pick-me-up is to step outside ourselves and divert our attention to the world unfolding around us, rising to the occasions life presents.

The Medical Sideshow

42734194_sAll too often, there’s a sideshow to chronic illness: our treatment regimen! Let’s take my pills. They’re small, white (or yellow) and round. They “control” (I didn’t say “cure”) my Dystonia but wreck havoc with my body. My meds require me to walk a medical tightrope juggling multiple balls in the air, engaging in a precarious – but common – balancing act.

My neurologist and I make all sorts of adjustments. We go down on one culprit with particularly distasteful repercussions until my walking worsens. Then it’s time to regroup. We add meds to address side effects, which in turn make their own statements. Understand, I’m an impatient person who rarely acts incrementally. I embrace BIG CHANGE. Not with my pills. The process of going up and down, not to mention trying new meds, is E-X-C-R-U-C-I-A-T-I-N-G-L-Y  S-L-O-W. But I appreciate the need to drive with caution and intermittently engage the brake.

The “games” never end. I had to discontinue a long-standing drug that caused my blood count to plummet dangerously. Another regular exerts undue influence on my blood labs, rendering them confounding to everyone except my neuro. Then there’s the trial and error of “new” treatments. During a clinical study, I became convinced a med was making my Dystonia worse and hightailed my way off that highway. I speak from experience when I say serious drugs merit serious vigilance.

I reap the benefits of a highly knowledgeable and careful neurologist. However, responsible health care doesn’t end with a trustworthy physician. As patients, we’re the ultimate arbiters of the substances we ingest and interjecting a healthy dose of caution is prudent. Do the research, investigate your options, read the fine print, ask probing questions, and trust your instincts when it comes to side effects – after all, you know your body best.

With World Health celebrated throughout spring and summer, the American Recall Center has embarked on a campaign to promote medication safety (check out their tips below). The American Recall Center website is an invaluable resource for prescription drug and medical device recall information and other healthcare topics advancing informed medical decisions.


A Hop, Skip & A Jump!

26418170_s Edited#JumpForDystonia is sweeping across cyberspace and I couldn’t be more excited. This inspirational awareness campaign launched by Dystonia Europe reminds us to live our lives joyfully and offers us hope that our seemingly elusive dream of freedom of movement is but a hop, skip and a jump away!

When was the last time you embraced a leap of faith? How often have you jumped for joy, jumped into the conversation, jumped to a conclusion…or jumped off that proverbial cliff? How about taking a flying leap and jumping for Dystonia?

There’s no better way to begin than a jump-start! Join our #JumpForDystonia Flash Mob this week (July 13-19) to ignite a wildfire of awareness across social media. Simply share a pic or video showcasing your best – or most creative – jump accompanied by the hashtag #JumpForDystonia. Pole vaults, long jumps, ski jumps and jump shots are all welcome. Enlist friends family and work colleagues. Let’s get the whole world jumping for Dystonia!

Check out our Flash Mob Event:  #JumpForDystonia Flash Mob

Enter the Photo Contest:  #JumpForDystonia Photo Contest

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. This #JumpForDystonia video is worth a million:

Speech Therapy: When Practice Doesn’t Make Perfect

26820862_s editedA dashing speech therapist broke my heart. No, it wasn’t a torrid romance ending in tragedy but his sage words of advice: conversational speech is the last dam to break. Worse still, the coveted prize we were chasing was “communication” not “perfection.”

I’m a self-admitted practicing perfectionist. “Good enough” is never good enough when my life’s work is a perpetual pursuit of Eden. I aim to scale mountains and then chastise myself for the slightest blunder. So, surprise, surprise, I embarked on speech therapy with abundant determination to nail that bull’s-eye. In my estimation, I’d practice, practice, practice until my speech issued perfect, perfect perfect. While I might not scale tall buildings in a single bound, I’d surely conquer them with a rigorous daily regimen. Then reality hit. Those darn “Ks” and “Gs” continued to pose a battle, median “Ds” and “Ts” relentlessly evaded me…and shall we discuss my lip sounds? Further, if I reduced my life to working on my speech when would I actually use it? I needed to modify the recipe.

Most people coast through sentences blissfully unaware of the verbal gymnastics they perform with every word. The tongue effortlessly careens from venue to venue in fluid motion while the lips execute deceptively simple maneuvers. The veritable clockwork programmed by our brains and slickly engineered by our orofacial muscles enables us to focus on the dynamics of conversation rather than the specifics of location. As if on autopilot, we register our speed, then sit back and relax as the flight conveniently navigates itself.

Until I began speech therapy, I pounded out my speech in appalled ignorance of the mechanisms of my physiological inefficiencies. I’d no idea of the muscular precision required to orchestrate individual sounds and master conversational flow. Further, little did I know co-articulation demands we pronounce our sounds in units – in other words, our forward-thinking brains work a step ahead of us – granting undue influence to the banes of my existence. Certain sounds manageable in isolation “malform” when coupled with anticipated sounds looming in my future.

Focusing on my wealth of articulatory challenges simultaneously – a feat of multi-tasking – poses overwhelming, particularly if I seek to partake in productive listening. Adjusting my lofty aspirations, I slow the party down and divert due attention to the dynamics of the discussion. After all, the turtle bested the hare with a slow and steady pace.


17693121_sNow this is an interesting exercise. Why don’t you give it a shot? Here’s the beginning of my list of challenging “multi-tasks:”

  1. Walking and talking on the phone.
  2. Maintaining my balance going down steps.
  3. Playing Twister. Won’t happen again…last game I tore my meniscus!
  4. Laying inside an MRI machine and holding still.
  5. Articulating individual words while speaking in sentences.
  6. Any exercise that involves my legs and another body part.

What are your fiercest multi-tasks?

Independently Mobile?

26025652_s editedWithin my neighborhood, I rule the sidewalks in the company of my slick, 4-wheeled sidekick. Venturing onto public transportation pitches me into the world of “handicap accessible.” To my utter dismay, the 86th Street subway, a hub of activity and my home base, fails to accommodate. The “convenience” of the express train perpetually looms a foreboding 3 flights of stairs away.

So what’s the problem? Isn’t this where the dashing knight in shining armor comes galloping onto the scene to rescue the damsel in distress struggling with a precarious descent while juggling 5+ pounds of folded metal? Plenty of burly armed men bustle past me…not to mention a choice selection of NYC yuppies. Adamant about requesting assistance, I’ll patiently await my gallant to little avail. Seems this dystonia damsel requires a megaphone to motivate an endless supply of walking testosterone pursuing their destinations with single-minded focus.

Life is a trade-off and my solo adventures arrive bundled with a steep price. I find myself recalibrating my notion of “independently mobile” to accommodate the human and technological assistance I’m helpless to escape.