I've complained a time or two about the way people look at me when they see me get out of a handicapped parking spot. In case you haven't noticed any of those, I thorough enjoyed this article speaking to the ignorance of some people out there.
However, today I want to discuss I different a different form of the ignorance I experience in my daily life. Well, this one is a we-issue, meaning it affects not just me, but also Kevin.
However, today I want to discuss I different a different form of the ignorance I experience in my daily life. Well, this one is a we-issue, meaning it affects not just me, but also Kevin.
Friday night we were at the Nationals' game. As he does everywhere we go Kev was carrying my purse. In case it's not obvious to you, he does that because of two main reasons: 1-my primary diagnosis is a nerve disorder that affects the entire upper quadrant on the left side of my body, from my neck through my shoulder down to my fingers; and 2-because that combined with everything else makes me incredibly weak and I tire easily, as well as faint frequently. He sees it as an unnecessary burden for me that adds extra pain, and why shouldn't we avoid exacerbating things....
Walking from our car to the stadium, we were both aware of a group of 5 or 6 people walking by us chuckling. Not so quietly one of them kept making comments. "You know what, I should wait to say it..." And then upon seeing both of us turning our head, "Oops, I said that out loud." They were all roaring with laughter. Perhaps adding to their glee was the fact that instead of my usual black purse, that night I had chosen to bring a pastel pink purse.
Throughout the night many people turned to stare at him/us. For some odd reason we didn't discuss this until Saturday at home, but upon sharing info we found that we both noticed all of it. We noted the days I wear my sling this obviously never happens. What was odd to us was that even though privately it was eating us both up, we said nothing to each other or to the idiots blatantly making comments.
I recently got fired up about the looks I got from parking in handicapped spaces. A friend of mine who can actually relate, and therefore is qualified to share opinions on such matters, told me that it's not worth getting so heated about the ignorant dirty looks. Now, this is true. I let it affect me too much. She also pointed out to me that there are ways to politely and appropriately attempt to educate the people who find it necessary to make comments. Kevin and I both wished we had said something to that first crowd of goons. And at least now we know that we are in agreement about how we ought to handle it next time.
But that still doesn't feel like enough for us to simply have a plan. It's wrong that we can count on there being a next time. I know my blog doesn't reach many people, but for those it does I am challenging you to consider this on a personal level.
If your mother, wife, or best friend had an injury or illness that made them tired, weak and in pain, would you help them carry their purse or bags? Would you help them with absolutely anything you could? Would you do these things only in the privacy of your home or would you do it in public? Would you care what it made you look like to strangers who only see a purse on a man's arm with no visible injury to the woman? Or are you the type of person who just sees a man carrying his date's purse and laughs? Would it matter even if a man was carrying a purse for himself? Do you judge people who use the elevator instead of stairs for one flight, or do you remember that you don't know their situation? Do you judge the "healthy looking" people in handicapped parking spaces? Do you assume anyone young and not blatantly crippled is in good health? Do you think everyone elderly is in bad shape and weak or ill? Or, God willing, has someone in your life instilled upon you that you ought not judge a person's outsides when you know nothing of their circumstance?
Think it over. In many of my posts I use the phrase invisible illness. It's hard not to know exactly what that means -- it's self-explanatory. I didn't come up with that wording, but I love it. It's a blanket over a whole community of people like me who struggle against disease that cannot be seen by the naked eye. As my friend reading this blog, I'm sure you're sympathetic to me. But can you take that into real life and stop yourself from judging strangers? If you didn't know me, would you mistake me for someone healthy and whole? Or if you were in Kevin's shoes, would you have the love in your heart to not give a fuck what a bunch of wannabe tough guys think? He knows he's more of a man than them for it.
I didn't even realize this when I started typing this blog, but I know now. What I'm talking about is adult bullies. As ridiculous as that sounds, these people who feel the need to make comments and laugh and stare are just plain old bullies. Kevin and I look different when we're out, and bullies of all ages like to laugh at the people who are different in some way. It happens in high school and apparently it never stops. It's pathetic. When I coached at Parkville, they had campaigns and pledges to stop bullying (mostly because of the prominence of cyber bullying at the high school level). This doesn't exist in the real world, because it should be a code of life. It should be common sense, but as Voltaire said, "Common sense is not so common."
It's my own anger and insecurity with my health that makes me feel the need to defend myself. That's obvious. But I also shouldn't be in a position to feel the need to defend myself. Other adults shouldn't behave in such a immature, thoughtless ways.
My friends always say they wish they could do something for me, to make my world better. It isn't often that anyone can directly offer me help, but I have thought of a way you can make the world better for everyone: Consider this post, sincerely ask yourself the questions I posed, live with mindfulness, behave with thought, and speak up against bullies (at any age).
As always, thank you for reading and offering your endless love and support.
