If I were a vegetable, I’d belong in a 5-pound sack of couch potatoes. When I began my career in…
Dinah Chong Watkins
Diagnosed with scleroderma in 1996, Dinah has been around since the age of Methuselah — oh no, wait, that's her husband. Still a child bride (it's all relative), she escaped the cold, snowy winters of Toronto for the cold, smoggy winters of Beijing and Shanghai. There she found true socialism with Chinese characteristics, where comrades and Krispy Kreme were worshiped side by side. Repatriated back to the shores of sunny California, Dinah likes piña coladas and long walks on the beach ... and is counting on her husband's 401K to provide all that.
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Articles by Dinah Chong Watkins
Don’t Cry for Me, Scleroderma
It was one of those “oops!” moments — the express elevator down to your gut when you realize you hit…
Along the street lined with neatly planned townhouses, an effervescent spirit zigzagged through the households at midday. Every person under…
(Sung to “Defying Gravity,” with apologies to Stephen Schwartz.) Something has changed within me Some parts are getting…