Kate Lewis

It’s Thursday, and I’ve had enough for one week. I protest by opening my Outlook calendar and defiantly blocking out two hours. I set my...

“This ain’t no disco,” Sheryl Crow informs me. I flick the windshield wipers to clear the frost on the windows of my '99 Honda CR-V. As...

I wasn't excited to write this blog, but it needed to be done. I wrestled with how to begin, questioned how the words would land. I’m...

The memory comes in flashes. Urgent care, wedding reception, hospital room. It started as a little cut, a bump on my upper left thigh,...