Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Random musings

Insurance companies are run by Satan's minions. What goes around comes around, people.

Administrators don't retain poker faces when you cheerfully just happen to mention when they attempt to blame you for "miscommunication" that you have saved years worth of email as documentation of a particular issue. A potential attorney, on the other hand, is gleeful about several inches worth of paper documentation.

Other people with disabilities are very happy about the changes to the restroom doors and that they no longer need pain medicine after opening them, which makes the requester happy, too. Husbands will get into trouble if they joke in front of your coworkers, "look at all the changes they're making for you," when the building has been out of compliance since ADA and other people don't get ADA and think that all the changes might be mostly for you only.

People stress out when they're standing in line at the deli and they, bored, glance around, and you're there, in the scooter, and they're afraid that they're staring, though they've just glanced, so they look away in the opposite direction, really fast. Okay, breathe, normal human interaction is okay, people.

Some kids like wasabi peas. Wasabi-loving kid will shoot you a sharp look for using "that" in the house in front of her friends, though her friends aren't paying any attention at all. One of friend's parents who is normally very conversational can barely make eye contact/speak with you.

Another kid might worry that you might embarrass yourself to use the scooter at their school on Valentine's Day. And when you ask why, the kid will say that you're a disability person and not many people are disability persons, and you start to worry if they're embarrassed.

That rash that made you think, "oh, textbook meningitis rash" when you woke up this morning? Well, now it increasingly itches, and though you don't have a fever and the infection you've had is getting better, it really does look like a meningitis rash, and you wonder if you should worry and whether, if you go to the doctor tomorrow, he will have his "you worry too much" reaction or his, "oh my god, why didn't you come in before" reaction. (The spots are called petechia, and the only time I've had them before was after respiratory problems during anesthesia, bursting blood vessels from inability to breathe.)

Dear Stupid Cheap Scooter,

You make my butt hurt.



Elizabeth McClung said...

I'm sorry you are getting the scooter fallout, but just think of it as getting a new tattoo, eventually people will accept it as part of you and all the "don't know where to look, don't know what to say" will end. Still hurts in the here and now though.

Linda forced me out in the electric wheelchair over the weekend, tried to get into starbucks but couldn't as backing up far enough to get the door open is too far away for me to open the door (plus I only use it on days when I am so weak as to not have the strength anyway). Used gross muscles, putting the stick in between my fingers and using my shoulder to steer - meant that any big bumps and I went wildly off one direction or another. Good thing I have it on low speed - this takes more practice than it looks. Still too chicken to go out myself. Maybe if it is sunny I will risk it. I too get stares, different stares from people used to me in manual, the whole, "Oh god, poor pitiful dying girl" stare, apparently mobility is a hallmark movie now.

FridaWrites said...

I didn't realize how many friends I have from so many different areas, but even weeks later I keep running into them, with a gasp, and a "What happened?", even today. I'm glad I'm able to deflect that pretty quickly, and just kind of shrug and say reassuringly, "Oh, it's just the usual spine and health problems, nothing new."

Yes, that's the same problem I have with doors, too--it's difficult to get positioned just right and a big risk to throwing out the back muscles completely. Right now I usually wait until someone comes along; to places I go routinely, I'm taking my cell phone and phone #s so I can ask people to let me in. Sorry for all the bumps--they are painful! I get sore from that.