About the Author
ARLEY MCNENEY is a member of the Canadian women's wheelchair basketball team, which won bronze at the Paralympics and gold at the 2002 and 2006 World Championships. She has been published in literary journals at the University of Toronto, and the University of Victoria and won the Mocambo Café Poetry Prize. She currently divides her time between her home in New Westminster, BC and Champaign-Urbana Illinois, where she is working on her graduate degree in Creative Writing.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
"Finally," I told my doctor when he gave me the booklet, "an instruction manual to my body. Why didn't I get one of these thirty-two bloody years ago?"
The book has stern warnings not to engage in any high-risk tango or salsa dancing. Lawn bowling: yes. Intercourse that involves "unnecessary bending over": no. ("What exactly constitutes 'unnecessary?'"Quinn asked.)
It was natural to see my hip as a bawdy house: skin like heavy curtains over the secret creaking of joints. My hip with its red-light-district throb of inflammation when I walk, heartbeat misplaced there. My heart not in the right place, too close to the groin.