Ah, the wheelchair – that sad symbol of failure and
loss. A 25-pound contraption of vinyl, metal and rubber that seems to have an
almost mystical power to break the human spirit.
You’ve heard the comments.
“That poor man, he’s stuck in a wheelchair.”
“She’s got a handicap that’s left her
wheelchair-bound.”
“What a shame – confined to a wheelchair.”
I know of what I speak on a personal level. I’ve
been confined to my prison on wheels for 30-plus years. And let me tell you,
it’s no picnic.
Using a power wheelchair is certainly a burden.
When I got my first one at 18, I realized the consequences right away. It
forced me to get around on my own, and I had no choice but to go away to
college. Sadly, being able to get out of my house meant I had to meet people,
some of whom became dear friends and one of whom became my beloved husband. I
even had to get an education.
As if that weren’t bad enough, the chair’s powers sentenced
me to getting my own apartment and going away to law school. Three years I spent
in that university! Three years of education that allowed me to pass the bar
exam on the first try! All due to the mobility caused by that damn chair.
Getting around independently has even more
drawbacks. It’s forced me to have a successful career I’m proud of, and allowed
my husband and me to take vacations. Wandering the white hilltop villages of
southern Spain, exploring the Tuscan countryside, taking in plays on Broadway
and London’s West End – all enabled by that blasted chair! Why can’t it just leave
me alone?
But at least my days are brightened by kind
strangers with pity in their eyes who hand me dollar bills. Why, those extra
two or three sawbucks a month sure do help pay the mortgage. And I never grow
tired of hearing folks shout out: “Slow down, little lady. You’re gonna get a
speeding ticket!” Why, just last week I heard the 5,741st person say
that very-same phrase to me and I burst out laughing. Noel Coward and Dorothy
Parker had nothing on that clever wag!
I have to hold onto these meager bright moments in
my life. Otherwise, the misery of my incarceration in my wheelchair would truly
be too much to bear. If only I had no chair to take me around and could simply
remain in my house each and every day. I imagine a life spent in front of the TV
clad in T-shirts and sweatpants, watching Jerry Springer and eating Cheez
Doodles. Ah, but it’s only a dream…
But I vow to accept my fate. I shall remain strong.
What choice do I have in this miserable prison on wheels?
No comments:
Post a Comment