This past Friday marks two weeks since I made my first ever 911 call.

It was around 4pm that I had told my kids to make sure they had their cell phone with them so I could call them in for dinner. I was sitting here in living room, doing some web development work when I felt a bit of a twitch on my right side and what I thought was a hunger pan.

So up I go and into the kitchen to prepare a salad and have some fruit given I've been doing some massive retooling for the past 4 months of my food intake with Jamie, my nutritionist. I wash and cut some lettuce and a piece of grapefruit which I proceed to eat.

Within 5 minutes I was howling on the floor in pain as if someone had suckered punch me in the chest whilst all the muscles on my right-side froze, seized in a painful spasm.

I had to crawl to the nearest phone so I could call my kids and their father, to warn them I was calling 911. The dad, as usual, was skeptical. I hang up to call 911 not thinking that I was using my cell phone and that they couldnt track me. So here I am trying to describe to the operator what was going on when the phone rings and the dad realizes that indeed I am in a medical emergency.  read more »

By the time you read this, we are fifteen days and some hours too late. By the time you read this, Lillian Milán is already dead and buried, victim of the daily little violences carried out by our tax-funded bureaucratic neglect.

We arrive more than half-way into the story because, even though there's a mother and wife missing, the bureaucratic violence that killed Ms. Milan is still going strong.

You don't need to go to New Orleans to witness the havoc and devastation of our government's willful neglect.

All you need to do is take the train to 140 Moore Street in Brooklyn.  read more »