And I can’t reach to pick it up. So I guess it’ll just stay there until tomorrow morning when one of the guys get home.
I just hope the screen didn’t crack when it hit the linoleum.
For the future, I must figure out a way to pick up the phone easily. Adding this to my ever-expanding to-do list.
The battery, at least. So around 5, I decided to make a cup of tea and sit in my bed while it charged. I started watching videos on Search Engine Optimization and eventually decided to lie down for a few minutes while the next segment loaded.
I guess I fell asleep, though. Because I definitely just woke up. Oops.
After six months, this waiting game is getting so old.
Michael J. Fox, interview featured in Good Housekeeping June 2011
The bullshit I experienced when scheduling my summer class was amazingly minimal. I went to the necessary building and while I waited by the front desk for someone to speak with me and sign my class permission form, I made small talk with the receptionist.
I mentioned that one of my primary issues with school in the past few years has been the lack of accessible public transportation available to people with disabilities. After talking for five minutes, she asked me if I was a writer. This isn’t a question most people ask me, and I’m not going to lie—I got kind of excited.
I told her that I do write and inquired as to why she was asking.
She then requested that I join the Disability Awareness committee and speak to local and state representatives about the issues I face as a wheelchair user and person with a disability. She said if I speak to them, conditions could really improve for others in similar situations.
Guys, I know government can sort of be a load of red tape mixed with shit, but this is so awesome!
I accepted the position and will find out more about the upcoming meetings soon.
I get to schedule my necessary course at 4 tomorrow and I will only have to do my work online. Once I finish the course, I will officially be a college graduate and will walk to get my diploma in December. This summer is starting off so much better than I had even hoped.
OH. And I’m totally wearing yellow today to support Osteogenesis Imperfecta Awareness or Wishbone Day or whatever it’s called.
Disability pride, guys! I got it!
(To learn more, go to: http://www.oif.org/)
The fitting and measurements didn’t take nearly as long as the last time. And although I wish it would be faster, I guess 6 miles per hour isn’t too tragic. It’s going to have the ability to elevate 11 inches (!!!) and recline (!!!) which is fantastic and way more posh than I had anticipated.
There’s an immensely dramatic advertisement for it on YouTube which you should probably watch for the special effects if nothing else.
It will be here in about two months, probably.
When I was younger, mostly before my Near-Death Experience, I frequently had severe back pain. I have scoliosis and my spine curves quite a bit. I assume the back pain is somehow connected to that, but I’ve never gone to a doctor about it.
Thankfully, I’ve had essentially zero back pain for the past years. Until this week. And now, I can feel it again in my lower back. I squirm to find a comfortable position and—oh! it feels okay for a minute!—but then it hurts again and I feel pretty miserable.
Tonight it even hurts when I lie down in bed, which is shitty because those are pretty much my only two options: sit in chair or lie in bed.
This rediscovered pain is probably being caused by the fact that the temporary wheelchair I’ve been using for the past three months isn’t customized for my (abbreviated) height or anything. I know it’s going to be another six to eight weeks after I finally get measured for my new chair before it even comes in. (…Did I mention I haven’t even been scheduled for a fitting yet?)
I guess my main gripe, if there is one to be summed up from this garbled mess, is that I’m not sure how to deal with the pain from now until the time that the new chair comes in and hopefully alleviates this awful feeling.
Tonight, I threw caution to the wind and took an extra Tylenol. Here’s to blissful sleep and the creativity to discover possible solutions.
This is actually a problem for me. I have an impossible time when it comes to actually thinking positively about myself. But, okay, I think I sort of have something.
My dream to move out of state was always something I didn’t push in their faces because I had assumed the idea of us living so apart would be difficult for them to handle. In June 2008, my father got a promotion which resulted in he and my mom moving to Denver. I am their only child and though I had my own apartment near my university, the idea of them leaving was something I had never actually considered.
When they moved, I was officially On My Own. My mom couldn’t come over to help me run errands or pop in unannounced to drop off food. It was intimidating for a litany of reasons, but what I’m proud of is that despite how difficult being on my own can be—I’m still fighting for my independence.
I’m also proud of my ability to say the alphabet backwards rather quickly and, occasionally, my writing.
I’ve actually written about this before in a different situation and for a different purpose. So I will now link to the post where I spoke of this topic in detail (if you’re interested, click here) and summarize everything in the following sentences:
When I was in seventh grade, I had a small surgery in order to have the chance to walk. The surgery nearly killed me and caused me to undergo seven years of recovery before reattaining my previous level of independence.
Sometimes I think about what my life would be like had I told the doctors no—that I would prefer not to be a part of their medicine trial. I wonder if I would be farther along in my quest for total self-sufficiency. I wonder if I would be the same person. I wonder if I would be less insecure or have less pent-up anger. I wonder if I would have less anxiety or be able to accept love more easily.
There is no way to answer any of these questions with any level of certainty. That surgery and the hell I went through to get to where I am today have had an enormous impact on who I am as a person, and even though it was impossibly difficult and trying at the time—I can’t say I would change anything that happened.
I am who I am because of everything I went through. And I’m slowly becoming more and more proud of that person each day.
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I was absently clicking sites when I came upon “LoveGivesMeHope” and after reading a few pages I damn near vomited on my keyboard. I especially hate ~inspirational~ crap like this specific submission.
It is not inspirational or AWW-worthy just because people in love have disabilities. Their lives are not there to make you feel better about yours. Kindly go fuck yourself, you ableist douche.
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Scratch the shower. The battery of the chair I use to get into the bath tub is dead.
I’m just going to bed.
For the longest time, I penalized myself and my body for not living up to my understanding of how it should look based on media indoctrination. I penalized my body, which is genetically quite different from “normal” and the size-2s of the world, for not living up to this grand standard I had built up in my head.
It is just within the past year that I’ve begun to realize that it isn’t my body failing as much as society’s unwillingness to acknowledge individuality in all spectrums.
I’m not terribly comfortable with my body, but I have begun the tedious process of changing my thought patterns. I find that I hate myself less since realizing the standards I was trying to meet weren’t even my own, but set by others. I’ve changed my goals of ~normalcy~ and ~becoming traditionally attractive~ to being healthier and loving myself. It is with acceptance that I hope I can become someone I can be proud of, regardless of appearance.
Having a disability has put a different strain on my perception of myself. It isn’t possible for me to even meet the Hollywood-set standards I was aiming for at one point. This isn’t a bad thing, but it is something that at one point I didn’t grasp. I beat myself up for all of the wrong reasons and lost invaluable time attempting to be something unattainable, which I think most can relate to.
I only wish there were more role models for people with disabilities to look up to. It truly could make life much easier if there were wheelchair users and other people with disabilities on covers of magazines and billboards (and preferably in a context that doesn’t insinuate pity or a need to be healed or fixed).
Accepting myself hasn’t been an easy process. It still isn’t. But I am working on it and I will continue to do so.
stuffsickpeoplehavetoputupwith:
if this kid can smile, so can you.
I never reblog stuff like this, but this boy is so cute and there’s an excellent point being made. Every day we take stuff for granted and frown for the stupidest things. There’s always someone in a worse position than you and they’re smiling. Now you smile.
Are you fucking kidding me?
THIS CHILD IS NOT HERE TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER ABOUT YOUR LIVES
^^^ for once i disagree with you. what is wrong with making someone feel better about their life?
Okay, wow. Um, how can I lay this out for you…
If you are a person without disabilities who looks at a person with disabilities and feels good about not having a disability then what you’re saying is that people with disabilities are bad, abnormal, and deserving of pity. I hope you understand why that is fucking offensive.
Here, have some links
http://disabledfeminists.com/2010/11/19/what-is-ableism-five-things-about-ableism-you-should-know/
http://bitchmagazine.org/post/the-transcontinental-disability-choir-what-is-ableist-language-and-why-should-you-care
http://disabledfeminists.com/2010/08/25/tracy-latimer-is-dead-because-her-father-is-a-murderer/
Also, I’d like to add: disabled people don’t just exist to make non-disabled people feel good about themselves. It would be really awesome if you (and by “you” I mean “healthy, able-bodied people”) could stop projecting onto us all of your fantasies about happiness/unhappiness, health/sickness, life/death, and so on. It would be really awesome if you could see us as human beings on our own terms, equal to you, and not just as some allegory for your own personal fears, hopes, moral beliefs, and so on. I am not here to make you feel better about your own life. My job is not to be “inspirational” to you. And neither is this child’s.
BASICALLY.
This.
