Annoyance has been brewing in my mind like a strong black tea. Yesterday I skipped out of work early to go see the 3D mega-movie Journey to The Center of the Earth. I've been really looking forward to it. And as I anticipated, it was a joyous romp. Completely popcorn pop. I was buzzing when I left, amazed at the 3D images which had blazed in front of my eyes. I even reached out to touch something I knew wasn't there. Joe and I zipped down the ramp into the lobby and I stopped just outside the disabled toilet and Joe crossed the hall to go into the men's room.
I was back in my chair waiting for Joe when I felt a hand touch my shoulder. This always creeps me out. I don't like being touched by strangers. Then a face peers into mine. A woman, the far side of thirty, came into view. "I have to ask," she said, "is there any hope?"
She was called away by an embarrassed looking teenaged child before I could answer, but I managed to mutter, "Not for you" loud enough for her to hear. I think.
As noted here before, a wheelchair is a magnet that pulls toward itself all those who are socially, um, odd. There should be a meme some time about the 10 weirdest things that non-disabled people do around disabled people. It would be tough to restrict it to 10, actually. But the thing that gets me is having my day, my mood, intruded upon. Unwelcome touch and disturbing conversations in the midst of a fun trip to the flicks with my boyfriend kind of alters the sense of the day.
By this morning, the question, "Is there any hope?" had bounced around my head like a ping pong ball on crack. I couldn't settle it down. So, today, this blog really is for me. I'm trying to get it out of my head and down in words. Maybe that will let me get about my day unimpeded by this question constantly forming and reforming in my mind.
So do I have any hope? What do I hope for?
To answer the question that she was obviously asking. Is there any hope I'll walk again? Well, I still walk a little. I don't imagine I'll ever walk a lot again. But this hasn't led to a destruction of hope.
If walking isn't on the hope horizon, what is?
I'm not going to go all beauty contestant and hope for world peace, the end of world hunger, the day the world goes sane. Of course I hope for these. I even pray for them. But that's too easy.
Really, on a day to day basis, what do I hope for?
I hope to make a contribution.
I hope to brew the best cup of tea.
I hope for a few minutes of backscratching when I get in bed.
I hope that there are comments on my blog.
I hope to laugh.
I hope to lecture in Australia one day.
I hope to finish my next book.
I hope our neighbours dog will sun himself in our yard again today.
I hope that my days continue to challenge me and interest me.
I hope that Joe loves me through another day.
I hope to get back to Amsterdam for another holiday.
I hope that Ruby comes to visit this week with Mike.
I hope for ordinary things.
I hope for extraordinary things.
Yeah, there is hope for me. Of course there is. As they say, "Where there's life, there's hope." I'm constantly amazed that someone might think that because I sit in a wheelchair, that my skies are dark, my hopes are few, my life is less. In the cinema, I had just journied to the center of the earth then in the lobby ran smack dab into the center of ignorance. The T Rex and the flesh eating plants were no where near as daunting as that touch and that tone. Looking for a super hero? Anyone in a wheelchair that hasn't turned into a mass murderer - shows superheroic retraint. Trust me on that one.