10 Sep A Tally Mark in a Column Labeled “Life” – On Being Sick, Abortion, and Mercy

Early last year I had a severe auto-immune reaction. One day all the joints on the left side of my body exploded with inflammation. My knee was the size of a grapefruit. The fingers on my left hand were so stiff I struggled to open jars. I’d wake up each morning with ripe, throbbing limbs and the tinny echo of my medication reminder going off. I remember dreading that first step onto the floor, because that’s when I would really know if it was going to be a good day or a bad one. It was often bad, in those early days. I ate oatmeal with almond yogurt, because the label on the pill bottles said “take with food.” I used a package of frozen raspberries wrapped in a towel to ice my knee. I stayed horizontal until the meds kicked in and I could move again without pain; usually around 1...