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When I listen to this music, I become young again for a little while. 

For a short time, I'm not the handicapped woman who has to use a very visible mobility device to walk more than short distances--a device that is the only thing that people seem to notice about me, because it's sure as fuck the only thing they can talk about. Either that or they think my memory is shot to fuck and they need to remind me about it every time they see me because I'm going to forget I have it otherwise? Hell, I don't know. 

I feel like I need to put a bumper sticker on the walker. Something with an arrow pointing up that says "I'm up here." Or maybe "the walker's fine. How are you?" Or maybe "not dead yet, merely pining for the fjords." Maybe I need to make a series of snarky, interchangeable signs.

I can't understand why people are so interested in my fucking walker. Have you never seen a person using a mobility device before? Has your life really been that sheltered? Did you fancy that everyone was able-bodied before this weirdo with her fancy wheeled frame thingy came to town?

I haven't been able to muster the wherewithal to go for a stroll again since the last fiasco when one person saw fit to stop and ask me in very concerned tones if I was all right because I had my fat ass parked on the seat of the walker and was looking at the sky and contemplating whether I wanted to make penne or lasagna for dinner.

I was prepared to let that slide. But then the fellow who always thinks I need a pep talk came out of the place he's fixing up and asked how I was. Not content to let it go at "I'm okay," he went on with his usual schpiel with a bit of unwanted icing on the cake about how I have beautiful hair and if we could just get my body to match my hair, I'd be a real doll.

I'm never comfortable with people talking about my appearance, so I said "well, I don't really care what I look like," which apparently startled this gent, as he said in a startled voice "why not?"

"I just don't," said I, tapping my forehead. "I'm this. I'm not my body."

"Oh, Honey, you need to believe in yourself!"

I wasn't up to explaining that I'm a realist and I don't think that the problems I have with my body can be resolved. So I said "okey-dokey" and went on my way.

You might think that's the end of this stupid story, but you would be badly mistaken. As I was passing the general store, a fellow was coming out and, of all things, asked me if I needed a ride.

I said, "no, I'm just walking." I tried to make a joke of it and said "if I don't, nobody else will."

"Are you sure you don't need a ride?"

Fuck's sake. Do I really look that decrepit?

"No thanks."

I really just cannot.

I like walking to the edge of town and sitting by the tree for a spell, contemplating lasagna or how I made the entire house smell like cabbage when I cooked The Italian Windbreaker (which contains a hearty helping of cabbage), or why Costco doesn't sell Tater Tots. 

I think I need a big, obvious set of headphones to wear as I gimp along. Then I can ignore everyone and listen to audiobooks.

In case anyone needs instruction on how to talk to them crippled-up disabled-like retreads, here's the highly classified, secret method.

Talk to us like you'd talk to anyone else.

Seriously.

I've never heard one single disabled person say that they want constant pep talks or to constantly answer questions about their mobility devices. 

I just want to take a fucking walk in peace.

Maybe my sign needs to simply say "my back is jacked up so I use this thing. No, it's not likely to improve. Can we please talk about something else?"

I know people "mean well," but it gets really boring always having to have the same conversation. To be honest, I don't give a fuck if they mean well. This shit is still invasive and offensive.

Ornery Owl is still pissed off

Free-use image from Pixabay

WTF Wednesday: A Fearful Fall

 

Image by Mark Payton

A response to this post:

https://pipersadventures.blog/2021/10/05/facing-a-fearful-fall

I love this rhyming anecdote and the perspective of meeting the end with humor. I have to say that I didn't react with humor either time that I was looking the grim reaper in the eye. On one occasion, I was angry and swore to come back and haunt the driver coming up my tail way too fast for me to react. (These thoughts occurred in the space of about 3 seconds.) Obviously, the jackass swerved at the last minute or I wouldn't be here to say this.

When a wave of water slammed into my car during a flood, I felt one moment of abject terror, and then I went into shock. I managed to brazen my way through, but I had PTSD following the event.

If you'd like to see my response to the above photo, sashay on over here.

https://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com/2021/10/helloween-2021-day-666-two-perspectives.html

In other thoughts, if any of you have ever wondered why disabled people tend to shut themselves off from the world, wonder no longer. I can't speak for anyone else, but I am certainly tired of being treated like a retarded child, getting pep talks, having people ask me if I'm okay when I'm just fucking sitting there looking at the sky and trying to figure out what to make for dinner, having people offer me rides when I'm just trying to take the fucking walk that I'm told I should take more and longer of because I'm too fat (probably according to the same people), and having people talk about nothing but my fucking disability or my fucking mobility aid. It makes me really fucking grouchy.

"But how should I talk to disabled people, Ornery? I mean, they're special and handicapable and all that!"

If I am special (an idea that I find questionable) it certainly isn't because my back and endocrine system are fucked beyond repair. And if anybody ever uses the term "handicapable" in my presence, I will hulk out and drop a car on them. I much prefer the term "disabled, not incapable." 

I'm thinking about having a snarky bumper sticker made to put on my walker. Something like "I'm just taking a walk," or "not dead yet," or "disabled, not incapable." What I'd really like is a bumper sticker that says "fuck off," but I think that's probably a bit confrontational.

Ornery Owl is...

(Free-use image from Pixabay)

with everyone's patronizing shyyyyt

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

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Blow Your Stack Saturday: I'm Not Special or an Inspiration and I Don't Want to Be

Guerrero Words: Dancing… in Ink: The COVID-19 pandemic has stolen a lot from people. It has taken loved ones, work, health, sleep, easy smiles, peace of mind… It has left mi...

I'm a hermit by nature, so isolating doesn't bother me. In fact, even in a town of 154 people, sometimes it's too "people" outside for my liking. 

I mostly have an "it is what is" attitude towards my various physical issues, but I bloody well wish that people would stop calling attention to my walker! 

I bought myself an upright walker so I could walk further without my back and right leg screaming at me. I can now walk a mile in relative comfort if I take brief breaks whereas before the walker I could do a quarter-mile at best. 

I swear sometimes if one more person gives me an "attagirl" when I'm just trying to take a walk in peace, my head will explode so hard that the whole town will be wiped off the map.

I suppose people mean well, but I find it demeaning and the trepidation at being confronted with praise for going out and taking a walk makes me not want to go out. 

I'm just a person taking a walk who has to use a tool so their back doesn't kill them. I don't want special treatment, praise, or pity. I just want to walk in peace.

Anyway, this post inspired me to lay down these thoughts, which means it was thought-provoking, and that's good. So, thank you!

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Angry and Ornery

Free-use Image from Pixabay