One of the first major crashes I experienced as a chronically ill person happened on an unusually sunny January day in New York City. It was 2023, and I was riding my bike with a friend, flying high from the exercise. We'd covered just over 40 miles on mostly flat ground, a longish ride, but not out of ordinary for me. And that's when it started. About 15 minutes from my apartment, my body gave out.
At first it was just my head - it grew hot, and within minutes, my brain felt like it was on fire. Pretty soon, the rest of my insides were burning up, too. As the skin on my arms and face turned red, and my limbs grew heavy, I felt bewildered. …
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