Just Doing It

Joe and I arrived a bit early at our hotel so our room wasn't quite ready. We were asked to either wait in the lobby for 20 minutes or, if we wanted, tour around for a bit then come back. We decided to tour around. As we did we began to notice places where we'd been before, on our last trip to Eureka. We pointed out various sites, found the place where I did consultations last time, all the while chatting about our memories of being here before.

I was in my wheelchair last time we were here.

It struck me that I'm not 'newly disabled' any more.

It struck me that, for 8 years, I've been a wheelchair user.

Now when we look back at the past, we have to go a fair way back to 'Dave walking' since 'Dave rolling' is taking up a fair bit of space. In fact, I don't 'remember' walking very well. I know I did. I know Joe and I used to go for walks. I know that there was a time when I didn't look for curb cuts or worry about bathrooms and accessible spaces. There was a time when I was privileged to simply go where I wanted to go.

I reflected, though, that I still feel like I'm new to the life as a disabled person.

Not, it came as a bit of a surprise, because of the wheelchair. Adapting to getting around differently came within the first few months of transitioning. Those were hard months, for both Joe and I, really hard months. Figuring out the logistics of getting around in a wheelchair, me working on just the getting about in it, Joe working out getting about with it. Cars and trunks and planes and trains all had to be tried and figured. That took it's time, a lot of it was frustrating, but once done, it was done.

What still makes it feel like I'm new to the life as a disabled person is that I still haven't got a full handle on the social aspects of disability. How to deal with, figure and understand, have responses for the daily oddities of social interactions. I'm not here talking about the rude or mean or, even, cruel things that happen. I'm talking about the regular ordinary weirdness that happens when someone in a wheelchair enters a space. Like, yesterday; we were coming back to the hotel and a fellow walking on a wide, really wide, sidewalk, stepped back off the sidewalk, into gravel, to let us pass. We weren't even close to him, but he made this huge space. Like how I'm everybody's 'buddy'. Like how I must appear like a little boy because I'm spoken to like I'm six. Those things, and a thousand more, I'm still not used to. 8 years in and I'm still waiting to be an old hand at this kind of stuff.

But, even with all that, it was nice to drive around and remember being here before, being here in a wheelchair, knowing that I once worried, as we struggled to get used to the chair, that years on, the chair would just be part of the memories. That my life would flow as my life would flow. We got back to the hotel, checked into our room and set about doing all the stuff we learned to do 8 years ago to set up the room. It's just what we do.

Disability is just something you do.