Logan G. Spector

Aug 13, 2024 | onlinelibrary.wiley.com | Amanda Thomas |Logan G. Spector |Courtney McCracken |Matthew E. Oster

ALL acute lymphoblastic leukemia AML acute myeloid leukemia CHD congenital heart defect COD cause of death DS Down syndrome ICD-9/10 International Classification of Diseases—Version 9/10 NCI National Cancer Institute NDI National Death Index PCCC Pediatric Cardiac Care Consortium 1 INTRODUCTION Congenital heart defects (CHD) impact approximately 1% of live births in the United States.1, 2 Advances in treatment of these individuals have increased the number of adults living with history of...

May 12, 2024 | logan-g-spector.medium.com | Logan G. Spector

There were always two passengers at eleven o'clock, riding south on Route 86, never interacting. The bleached atmosphere forced passing darkness to squint, as the metal calamity chugged underneath street lights. I was one of the passengers, always choosing to sit in the row along the stairs, where I would have nobody across from me. It gave me a good view of the lower part of the bus and seemed to separate me, giving me my own elevation.

Mar 18, 2024 | logan-g-spector.medium.com | Logan G. Spector

The quiet of my spacesuit always seemed to strip me of my humanity. I was a string of ones and zeros when I wore these bulky restraints, floating in the void of a programable mush. A sharp beep rang throughout the suit, followed by Dr. Goldsmith’s voice. “You ready to go on out?” She teased. “Not even clipped on to the safety rope yet. Give me a minute.” The echoes of my voice played back in my ears like ripples of a pond.

Mar 12, 2024 | logan-g-spector.medium.com | Logan G. Spector

Along the crest of dawn rode the trader dressed in shadow. His midnight cloak swayed as dripping paint, as it scraped among the grasses. Reins were clenched in his fist, hat low upon his head. He dipped into the forest and its protection from fearful eyes. Upon his shoulders rested jingling linings of silver teeth, attached to strings and sewn into the fabrics of his cloak.

Mar 10, 2024 | logan-g-spector.medium.com | Logan G. Spector

Through winding forest trails wheezed the dying breaths of a bastion, secluded to all but greedy trees burrowing their nails into crumbling stones. A warrior of tales stolen by the spindly grasp of time, the castle bellowed cries into fluffy hills. Upon rockfaces, the cliff did drop into running waters, which the bastion watched as disease rotted its once extravagant spires and intricately painted church.