Finding Strength — Lisa Weber

The scleroderma fog has struck again! My entire brain is floating inside a haze, and nothing is clear. I’ve been sitting in front of my computer for hours, writing and rewriting this column. I now have four different columns started, but as I write this, none are close to finished.

I pleaded with my doctor. “I want to chop off my finger! Please help me!” With pity in his eyes, he said, “It’s an ulcer. It’s common for people suffering from Raynaud’s syndrome.” Looking down at my throbbing pointer finger, I asked why it was…

When we became parents, my husband and I started our own holiday traditions. One of our favorites was taking our two daughters to snag the plumpest pine tree, and then going home to enjoy everyone’s favorite meal of homemade breaded chicken cutlets, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Bellies full,…

The alarm on my phone starts its disruptive routine early, and the repetitive noise annoys me out of my slumber. While the rest of the world remains cuddled up for a few more hours of sleep, my husband and I drag ourselves out of bed at 3 a.m. to catch a two-hour…

I take immunosuppressants to stop my body from fighting itself and reduce the symptoms of scleroderma. But that also prevents my body from defending against bacteria and viruses. This makes me think of everything in a new way. After the first few months of taking immunosuppressants, I learned that…

“It’s time to start a more aggressive scleroderma treatment,” my local rheumatologist says, although I’m not prepared to hear it. She thinks we are losing the battle and need to fight back harder. But just like in the movies when the main character is given bad news, her words…

I lean closer to the mirror and steady my hand as I trace the waterline of my eyes. Then I step back to analyze my work, hoping the makeup has livened my tired face. I feel lost as I try to recognize the woman in the mirror’s reflection. I know…

Back in the late 1980s, I was listening to the iconic female hip-hop group Salt-N-Pepa as I entered my teenage years. Today, their words would be considered mild, but back then, tunes like “Push It” and “Let’s Talk About Sex” were a hot topic in the tabloids. Like most…

It was a particularly beautiful morning. The hot Florida sun was still low in the sky, and a light breeze kept us comfortable while we watched our youngest daughter play soccer. It was almost perfect. As usual, I was rudely reminded that my broken body needs constant attention. My bladder…

I hate admitting that I often find myself trapped by jealousy. It makes me feel like I have a rotten core. Do all good people have these thoughts? Or am I an imposter failing to be the genuinely good person I aspire to be? An inspiring story filled me with…

The machine monitoring my vitals beeps annoyingly to alert the nurses that my blood pressure has dropped again. My limbs ache from the frigid air conditioning, and my body is sore from being held hostage in the hospital bed. Fear, loneliness, and pain begin to consume my thoughts once again,…

My little girls sway back and forth in their ruffled dresses. My face is fixed with a glowing smile as I watch the home video of these sweet babies. They are both saying the word “marshmallow” at my request. Their mouths fumble the multisyllabic word, producing the cutest versions. I…