I do not wish you my experience. I do not wish you injury or handicap, however temporary. I do not wish you pain. I do not wish you the soul-bruising frustration of being limited by a body that refuses to listen to your commands, or the salt in the wound that is knowing you did nothing to deserve this: that you didn't injure yourself running a marathon or rock-climbing, but instead fell prey to something that can strike anyone, at any time, for any reason. I do not wish you years spent sedentary, watching your friends rush by able-bodied and healthy, and struggling not to resent them for it.
Instead, I wish you empathy.
I wish for a future where you can look at someone using an assistance device, whether it be a cane, a wheelchair, or a motorized scooter, and think "isn't it wonderful how we live in a world where this person can have the same experiences I do."
I wish for a time where you can see someone using a motorized scooter to enjoy something as large as Disney World and think "isn't that person kind, to spare their friends and family the effort of pushing a manual wheelchair around this huge place, just so that they don't have to experience the nerve-racking stress of navigating something so large and potentially dangerous through a crowd."
I wish for a society where you can listen to simple, necessary requests and hear, not an inconvenience, but a leveling out of a certain small imbalance in the world.
I wish for a place where you can see a wheelchair user sitting to watch a parade and not think "great, let's stand in front of them, that's open space," but instead "isn't it lovely how we can all get a good view."
I am not asking for special privileges. I am not asking to go to the head of the line just because my left foot doesn't work sometimes.
All I am asking is to be allowed, unjudged and unresented, to join the line at all.
Thank you.
May 17 2015, 22:54:44 UTC 2 years ago
May 18 2015, 21:31:47 UTC 2 years ago
People mostly don't give me shit since I shaved my head. I assume they think I have cancer or something. Only one person has asked, and in the least obnoxious way possible. (checkout guy at a store I frequent asked if I was "going to be okay" in a pointed way, with much concern.) i don't bother correcting the assumption, though the truth is that crappy genetics, hypothyroid, autoimmune issues and three kids made my hair fall out.
June 2 2015, 18:26:17 UTC 2 years ago
Anyway. Pet peeve (I keep it fed and groomed for show.)
June 7 2015, 16:03:13 UTC 2 years ago