Skip to main content

The world according to Gimp

 






I understand that there are those who may believe my use of the term 'gimp' is derogatory or demeaning. I do not use it lightly or to belittle anyone, it's just a lot easier for me to than 'disabled' or 'handicapped' because it uses a little snark or humor to something that could use a little of that. Or in this case, I specifically want to make light of my situation so that it doesn't feel depressing. For you or me.

Let me try to explain. 

One of my pet peeves is the look of sympathy I get from well-meaning people. Like, "Aw, sweetie, I am so sorry that you are less abled, confined to a wheelchair and less able to live the full, active life that I lead." 

I am in a wheelchair most of the time and my life is different because of that but in truth I never wanted to run a marathon of play pickleball or climb Mt. Baldhead (I've done the latter too many times usually bringing up the rear of the group I was with and/or being cheered on by the third-graders at the top of the stairs). I do miss dancing, and dancing while seated in a wheelchair just isn't the same for this disco queen.

I don't want sympathy. 

what I want is for you to see me and not the chair or not see me as a person confined to a wheelchair.

I am also not a hero or heroic because I am 'overcoming'. That's just plain bull doo-doos, because the only thing I may be overcoming (if you see me out and about) is my strong desire to be home not having to confront any challenges that being in a wheelchair might present. Things like heavy doors and no automatic button to press to open the door or the entryway with a 'bump' that makes it difficult to get my chair over. Or being in at a gathering where everyone is mingling, standing up. Or gravel paths. Or grass. Or ... I think you get the picture. There are many obstacles but that's for another post. the gist here is that I am not a hero or God-forbid a 'saint' because I use a wheelchair. I am just a woman that needs a damn chair to traverse distances, who is likely swearing like a sailor in her head if she reaches an obstacle.








Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

You don't know me . . .

I stopped blogging for awhile. I know some might think that I was being lazy, or overly-involved in some community or school venture or in the middle of some really good books or projects. While all of those are true, that's not the main reason. I stopped because it felt strange to be somewhere and have someone refer to something I wrote. It was like they knew a secret about me (though secrets are not usually published on the Web) that I hadn't shared with them. Though in reality I had shared because I wrote it on the blog.  Truth be told, I don't know who reads this - I have a smattering of followers but a lot more readers. Blogger lets me see how many page views for each posting and I can even tell the referral site. The most I have had for any post was 152 and I've had readers from as far away as New Zealand (thank you Gretchen) and Alaska. Most readers are referred through Facebook. I know that if I were more diligent, I could market the crap out of the blog ...
Post a Comment
Read more

The amazement of children

I am a kid magnet. Especially little ones in strollers, my fellow four-wheelers. They will look at me, then my 'stroller', then back at me. And I waste no time in striking up a discussion with these fellow captives of the four-wheel system that has us at the mercy of whomever may be pushing us around. For those that are verbal, I like to compare our 'strollers'. One such young man, at the March in D.C. pointed out that I had two really big wheels and two really small ones, but his transport's wheels were all the same size and then he counted (it was adorable watching him squirm around in the stroller to look at the wheels behind him!) eight wheels. "Pus," he lisped what I assume was 'plus', "I have a hood." He proudly grabbed the stroller canopy and pulled it forward and backward. Yep, he had a much superior ride and I told him so. Then he said, with not a hint of awkwardness, "You're big for a stroller." His mother was ab...
Post a Comment
Read more

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

I put my pride aside and got my ass off the grass and into the wheelchair. {I spent a couple minutes deciding whether to put an exclamation mark after that declaration or to put the period after that statement. I think the period better suits my mood about getting said ass into the wheelchair!} On July 4, Saugatuck has a wonderfully unique parade that includes quirky participants like the artsy-fartsy campers at OxBow art colony and the LGBT members of a local foundation along with the more traditional participants like Girl Scouts, fire trucks, and local politicians. It had been a couple years since I had been to the parade, this year, though, my Mom and sister were in town and I wanted to take them. So we loaded up in the van, including Kerri's wheelchair and my own. Once we parked, John asked if I wanted to use my chair and I initially balked but then remembered that it can be a long, hot parade and it might be better to have a place to sit. So, I acquiesced and took the cha...
2 comments
Read more