Miracles, Mysteries, and the Minnesota Vikings

When life hit me hard, I flew out of bounds. But at least Stefon Diggs didn't.

“This is the sickest I could ever be,” I thought to myself (naively) as my Dad pushed me in a wheelchair through the airport. I was now too sick to live by myself, so he had come to bring me back home to Minnesota. Everything we passed—people walking in every direction, vending machines filled with headphones, the line for Panda Express—all felt like a blur. Telling myself that things couldn’t get worse was a coping mechanism I used at the time. I told myself the same thing in a different wheelchair at the hospital, and again lying on the floor of my parent’s basement.