When I think about my disability it’s often impossible to not think about the concept of time along with it. I will forever be hyper aware of how much time I have to button my shirt before my only remaining hand cramps up or how my travel time is nearly doubled if I’m carrying a tripod and can’t open doors along my route. My mind will never shy at the opportunity to conjure up what could’ve been had cancer not derailed my able-bodied dreams, and with it, my ability to neatly adhere to a normative sense of time.
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