I had 43 broken bones, burns on more than 40 percent of my body, a partial limb amputation, and after more than a month in a coma, I woke up.
Valentine's Day is upon us, and those little candy hearts pervasively sugaring the public sphere with the words "Be Mine!" got me thinking recently about the possessive language we use to describe love.
It's important for people who suffer with trauma to get the treatment that's appropriate to their unique experiences and that is sensitive to the specific symptoms they are struggling with at the moment.
My mom was shot twice in the face: once in the eye and once in the cheek. Considering everything she has been through, she looks fantastic and is in the best of spirits. On our walk today, I realized just how lucky I am.
