Guess what I like about being disabled, specifically being in a wheelchair. This is not an odd question, there are good things, upsides, to everything. Being in the wheelchair definately has some up sides so, go on guess ...
Did you guess, parking?
Well, yeah, but what's even better than parking is sitting in the wheelchair waiting to get in the car while the illegal parkers slink by in shame.
Did you guess, early boarding on airplanes?
Well, yeah, but that's primarily so that we get first dibs on the overhead baggage compartment.
Did you guess, the simpering smiles that strangers pass along when they see me in the mall?
Well, actually, no - but thanks for trying.
Someone yesterday suggested that it must be good to be in a wheelchair because I can grab anyone's body anywhere and then just smile simply at them like I didn't understand. It was a woman who suggested this ... you know who you are.
What I really, really like about being in a wheelchair is I now have a 'wheelchair bag' that hangs on the back of my chair. Wow. Now, I'm a man. I have pockets and a wallet and that's it. I never got into 'man bags' or satchels or any of that stuff. I grew up in a small town in the Rockies - men were men, inside and out. But now, I have a wheelchair bag. It's so distant from anything resembling a purse that I don't have to feel that I'm shaking social convention. I don't know how I managed for 52 years without one. I've got everything I need in there.
three different kinds of tea, white, green and oo long - not every restaurant has the options I prefer
my diabetes blood tester
a couple of juices should my blood ever be low
a condom - some find disabled fat guys hot - be prepared
the section of the newspaper with the crossword in it (this is for Joe)
a cattle prod - you need to some way of repulsing those who want to lay hands on and pray
an extra pair of dollar store glasses
change for parking meters and for street musicians
a can of diet coke (this is, again, for Joe)
a couple of dog treats for dogs that we run into on the street
Wow, huh? All these years of coping with being without is over. If I need it, want it or worry about not having it, it pops into the wheelchair bag. Ah, I can feel the growing envy of you two footers out there who have to fit everything thing into pockets or small purses ... not me, I've got a big old cloth grocery bay hanging off the back of my chair lugging all that I will need.
So, to heck with the frustrations of curbs and sidewalks in winter. I've got a wheelie bag! All will be well.