When I ran into a particularly difficult situation with my last job, the “d” word entered my lexicon for the first time: disability. While my life doesn't look like I thought it would, I have come to accept where I am and gained a new perspective on work and life.
Although not part of my son's “official” care team, our local pharmacist plays a key role in his cystic fibrosis care.
Like many of my millennial compatriots, I was booted from my parents' health plan when I turned 26. While my friends were shrugging health insurance off as just another growing pain of their 20s, I was panicking.
Going back to work was hard. So. Very. Hard. But with the mounting costs of cystic fibrosis, I didn't have a choice. The decision had been made for me.