The Glass is Half-Full

  I love it when I'm able to surprise myself. It's kind of hard to do if you think about it - surprising yourself; it's not like you can jump out and say surprise or think something you didn't know you were thinking. You know what I mean? Here's how the feat transpired.  I was parked in Saugatuck at the corner of Butler and Hoffman, near the book store. I needed to get to choir rehearsal and then come back to the store, so my original thought was that I would drive the block and a half and then come back. But it was a busy Saturday and I knew that parking was at a premium, so I  debated with myself about whether I would drive or leave the car and maneuver to rehearsal. You might be thinking, what's the big deal it's only a block. Even in a wheelchair, you should be able to go a block. And I can. But this is a block with a fairly steep hill and a fairly rutted sidewalk. But if I drive t here may not be any parking spaces nearby and I'll end up having to p...

  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 ...

Okay all of you 'struggling to stand' or 'not wanting to have to use a wheelchair' or others that look upon using a wheelchair as a symbol of failure, you're about to get punched. Punched in the figurative sense. I am about to go on my soap box and my Irish is up which means that I'm fairly peeved (though I've been mulling this over for awhile so I'm not as angry as I once was, which means there will be fewer expletives and a kinder tone). If you've read this blog or know me at all, you know that I did not go easily into using a wheelchair as my primary mode of transport. I too, may have had a little bit of your attitude about the wheelchair being sign of failure or of having given up. My sister, Kerri, helped put it in a different light. She said, and I'm paraphrasing here, "It's actually an energy saver since walking is stressful and you're worried about falling - using a wheelchair will take away a lot of that stress. You will hav...

 I loved Ireland - being there felt strangely familiar. Ive heard it described as the place fit my skins or something like it but more poetic or lyrical. We’ve been home for paver a month, but I feel it calling and know I’ll be back and to what village or townIwil be staying. What I didn’t love, about my Motherland, however, was how difficult it was to get around. And ‘m not talking the driving on the left side of the road. I’m talking about the traversing the sidewalks and buildings while in a wheelchair. I didn’t expect alterations to the old buildings;I didn’t expect an elevator in Blarney Castle just so I could kiss a stone to gain the gift of gab (Lord knows I’ve got that already) or even an accessible entrance to the inn in Kilkenny built in 1264 (though strangely enough they had an entrance with a portable aluminum ramp). What was unexpected, however, was the lack of accessibility at some more modern buildings. And it was that oversight that’s has me appreciative of our ow...

Rain, rain, go away. Don't come back another day. My hair is frizzy. Barometric pressure makes me dizzy. If I go out, wet I'll be. No umbrella hand free to protect me. I'm no Longfellow! And I don't think I'd win a poetry slam, but you get the idea. Rainy days, even when they're not Mondays, get me down. Because when you're navigating the world while four-wheeling, rain presents additional challenges. Last week, for example, the wind was blowing hard enough to blow my wheelchair seat cushion off my car where I'd placed it while removing my chair. It landed in a puddle, upside down, and rested there long enough that the absorbent material in the comfy cushion absorbed quite a bit of water. I may have let an expletive fly, because a store clerk who was standing up against the window under the protective eave, smoking a cigarette and looking at her phone, actually looked up. She didn't come to my aid, but she looked up. Thankful...