On from my recent missive about strange conversations and comments, I have two beauties to report from the last week.
In the dry cleaner's, I had a gentleman open the door for me. No, I was fine with that, I had my hands full and he was nearest the door. But as he did so, he said,
"We must help the weak, even though the weak do not like to be helped."
I replied,
"The weak don't like being referred to as the weak."
Which was pretty weak (sorry), but I was so shocked that it took me a while to get my brain into gear, and it was only when I was half-way down the street that I realised what I should have said.
"How about if 'the weak' pulls your arms off and uses them to hold the door open for you?"
My next encounter with the brain in neutral brigade came at a wildlife park, where I was using my powertrike (lazy, I know). was ill-prepared when a woman turned to me and said,
"That's the way to travel. I could do with one of them. My feet are killing me."
I just smiled awkwardly.
Instead of offering,
"Well, lady, why don't we swap? I'll take your aching feet and you can have my broken spine."
Now there may be some out there who think that I am being too sensitive, and that people mean well. I'm sure they do, and I'm sure that there are times when I am.
But I didn't initiate the conversation on either occasion. I'm just trying to go about my life with as much 'normality' as possible. I'm not being noble or brave. So by all means have a laugh and a joke, take the piss, etc. But please don't call me weak and please don't imply that my life has advantages over that of an able bodied person.
On a different note, I love this translation seen in China, found in a book called Chinglish:
In the dry cleaner's, I had a gentleman open the door for me. No, I was fine with that, I had my hands full and he was nearest the door. But as he did so, he said,
"We must help the weak, even though the weak do not like to be helped."
I replied,
"The weak don't like being referred to as the weak."
Which was pretty weak (sorry), but I was so shocked that it took me a while to get my brain into gear, and it was only when I was half-way down the street that I realised what I should have said.
"How about if 'the weak' pulls your arms off and uses them to hold the door open for you?"
My next encounter with the brain in neutral brigade came at a wildlife park, where I was using my powertrike (lazy, I know). was ill-prepared when a woman turned to me and said,
"That's the way to travel. I could do with one of them. My feet are killing me."
I just smiled awkwardly.
Instead of offering,
"Well, lady, why don't we swap? I'll take your aching feet and you can have my broken spine."
Now there may be some out there who think that I am being too sensitive, and that people mean well. I'm sure they do, and I'm sure that there are times when I am.
But I didn't initiate the conversation on either occasion. I'm just trying to go about my life with as much 'normality' as possible. I'm not being noble or brave. So by all means have a laugh and a joke, take the piss, etc. But please don't call me weak and please don't imply that my life has advantages over that of an able bodied person.
On a different note, I love this translation seen in China, found in a book called Chinglish:
What did the "gentleman" replied? I'm intrigued whether he took offence (completely oblivious to his earlier comment) or in fact your words were a wake up call to his stupidity. Honestly, these experiences are so bizarre and awkward that even though I try hard I can't represent the scenarios in my mind.
After following your column in the Times it rapidly became the first article I'd look for on the weekend. Love your humourous approach to life - seeing the funny side without diminishing the emotional and physical downside of any situation.
You perhaps need to have a ready collection of ripostes for predictable situations:
_ To the man who called you weak: "I may not have functioning legs, but at least I have a functioning brain, unlike SOME."
- When people talk over you: "I'm not dead yet!"
- When you're told you're doing well, considering: 'yes, considering I haven't killed you, yet.'
Dear Mr. Rushby-Smith,
I greatly enjoy reading your column in the London Times Online. You show that you have what makes a man a wonderful father; someone who cares enough to always be there with a loving and gentle approach, with a sprinkle of humor and a selfless devotion to your family life. Although not possible as I am a grown woman, I wish I had you as a father, a man I never met.
I was surprised at how I was treated some twenty years ago when due to an injury, I spent about a year in a wheelchair. The twenty and thirty-something year-old men who had previously pursued me or tried to engage my affections now treated me as though I were a contagious paraiah; standing as far away from me in an elevator as space would allow. I seemed invisible to many people as well; I had food dropped on me from people oblivious to my presence, and many a door left to shut upon me and my wheelchair. And the conversations with a few "concerned" passersby were no better; most wanted to know if I would be "this way" forever!
I applaud you for your courage and resolve to not let your anger and your disability destroy your social life. I wish you the best and hope your column will continue to appear in the London Times Online for the unforeseeable future as an inspiration to us all.
Cheers,
S Miller
Palm City, FL USA
I think you miss the point Tim - its what the comments say about the people saying them rather than the fact that you are a Para! The man speaking out loud might have been Autistic - they cant help but blurt out exactly what they are thinking and maybe his Mum drummed that irritating phrase into him as a child?!? Obviously the woman in the park realised you had more than aching feet but what is wrong with what she said? When my feet ache I sometimes joke with my partner that I could do with swapping with him to use his wheelchair even though I clearly know he cant walk!!! We laugh about it. He's 2 years post injury now and obviously is pissed off about being a Para but at least now we can laugh about it just as we laugh with our grown up sons about their Autism!!!!
Karen,
Firstly, the conversation that the man at the door had with the owner of the Dry Cleaners before he held the door open clearly demonstrated that his comment was of a 'biblical' preachy nature rather than being some kind of involuntary autistic or Tourette's outburst.
Secondly, there is a big difference between a joke between friends/family members about borrowing wheelchairs and an unsolicited comment made to a stranger who is just trying to show his daughter some animals in a wildlife park.
Now, I don't know the man in the dry cleaners, fair enough. But by the same token, the woman in the wildlife park doesn't know me.
So being in a wheelchair breaks down barriers that normally people wouldnt step over and then when they do you wish they hadnt? Could have challenged him to some arm wrestling which you would have won hands down and could have said to lady "this might look easy but try climbing stairs in it"? oh well - life is full of missed opportunities and none of us think what to say before its too late.Had years of needing selective hearing and blinkers to be able to go out with our Autistic sons so maybe we just used to tuning it out!