So this stupid Achilles rupture has allowed me a different perspective on the world, for a few weeks. And, as you might expect … I’ve taken as much advantage of it as I could. The point of view is that of a mildly disabled (as in needs crutches to get around) person. In no way do I think I can fully appreciate what its like to be like this ALL the time, or to have my world-view BE from this angle, but some of what I’ve observed and learned has been instructive to me.
1. The world is gigantic! Not in some geopolitical, or philosophical way. I mean practically. The distance from the front door of a supermarket, to the let’s say … meats, is a considerable hike, when you’re hobbled. Modern American society has created two conveniences that make this distance manageable.
A. The disabled parking space.
B. The electric scooter.
Hail to the kindness of bureaucrats who pushed through the legislation making wheelchair access mandatory. After this experience, I will NEVER swoop into one of these again, even for “just a second.” When you NEED one, few things can add as much time/effort/exhaustion/inconvenience to your day, as not having one available because some able bodied person has usurped it “just because.”
I don’t believe I’ve ever even NOTICED how many stores, and public places provide electric scooters. They are literally a LIFE saver. And now, I actually plan my shopping by determining which store has the most accessible and functional scooters.
This has actually caused a habit change that I will continue after this little lifespan, because the store closest to my home has an old beat-up scooter, that’s never fully charged. I had no idea, but now that I know … a slightly more expensive store that I’ve avoided in the past will get ALL of my impulse money, even after my recovery period is over, because they have a late model, always well charged, conveniently placed scooter RIGHT BY THE DOOR, with the key in it already.
I promise to remember that, once I toss my crutches in the trash for good.
2. People are incredibly nice, but woefully annoying to me.
I really appreciate that people hold doors open for me. I really do. BUT, holding the door open for a person on crutches, requires a different protocol than opening the door for a lady. Namely, GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY, SO I CAN GET THROUGH IT.
OK, I just had to get that off my chest.
It’s a really kind gesture, and I appreciate it, but have I mentioned how FAR I’m going to have to propel myself to get to the milk aisle? You’re KILLING all the motivation and physical strength I had to muster up to go through the 100-step process of leaving my apartment, driving my manual transmission with an aircast on my left leg, and just … making it this far by essentially BLOCKING the door you are trying to hold open for me.
I’m NOW in the catch-22 of having to muster up the polite words to tell you to move, while not seeming like an ingrateyou’re your chivalry.
3. The disabled give each other dap, and ALWAYS acknowledge each other, sorta the way men do at the lingerie store, brothas do on the street, or Asians do, in the ghetto. It’s kinda cool to be in a different club, for a change.
And when I was still in a wheelchair, I realized that “short” people do it too. That was also kinda cool.
My recovery is going well, and I hope to be over this little episode in as few months as possible, but in the interim … there it is.
Peace,
--Stew.
