There are occasions when I am presented with the opportunity to increase the understanding of the general public on matters of disability, and/or wheelchair use. In this regard, my position as former able-bodied-gad-about-town can be useful. People often find it easier to imagine the daily challenges when they consider how an injury like mine would affect their lives.
This is one of the myriad of reasons for my writing a book about my experiences. Obviously, vanity played a part too, but there was a desire to comment on the transitional process, and how one goes about rebuilding a life for the future.
That said, there are some days when, for whatever reason, I simply can't be arsed. Tiredness is often the cause, or pain. at such times, my role as Ambassador for the Undemocratic Republic of Disability seems like just a little too much effort.
Today I had a 'chat' with a passer by while I was getting out of my car.
It was the usual opening line.
He: Are you alright mate? Do you want a hand?
Me: No thanks, I've got it.
He: It's no trouble. Cor, you've done that quick.
Me: Well, I've had a bit of practice.
He: Must be hard though, isn't it?
Me: Yeah, well... (I mean, what am I supposed to say to that?)
He: So, erm, what happened then? How come you can't walk? I mean, why are you in a wheelchair?
Me: What, this? Oh no, I'm just lazy.
I know it probably wasn't fair. And it actually made me feel awkward, so I smiled and gave him the one sentence version. He ended up walking away looking puzzled.
I could have said to him, "I'm really tired," or "Sorry mate, it's complicated and I'm in a bit of a rush," or even,
"Sometimes, it's just easier to get on with my life and try not to think about how I ended up in a wheelchair, with all the inevitable dragging up of thoughts about the things I miss out on, the things I'll never do again. If one person in five asks me how I came to be in a wheelchair, then I have to go over it all three of four times a week. I don't always have the energy. Occasionally, I'd like to go back to being invisible again."
But I was tired, and it's complicated. Besides, I thought it was funny.
Today's article in The Times was all about fellow Back Up wheelchair skills instructor Peter Donnelly and his amazing wheelchair journey overland from Bangladesh using public transport.
Here's his blog, and a link to his fundraising page. He's aiming to raise £5000 towards a rehabilitation centre in the North of Bangladesh.
In other news, I must confess to being decidedly unimpressed with the new signage for disabled parking the the South Bank...
(Should this one pass you by, it's not just an ice cream flavour, it's also cockney rhyming slang)
This is one of the myriad of reasons for my writing a book about my experiences. Obviously, vanity played a part too, but there was a desire to comment on the transitional process, and how one goes about rebuilding a life for the future.
That said, there are some days when, for whatever reason, I simply can't be arsed. Tiredness is often the cause, or pain. at such times, my role as Ambassador for the Undemocratic Republic of Disability seems like just a little too much effort.
Today I had a 'chat' with a passer by while I was getting out of my car.
It was the usual opening line.
He: Are you alright mate? Do you want a hand?
Me: No thanks, I've got it.
He: It's no trouble. Cor, you've done that quick.
Me: Well, I've had a bit of practice.
He: Must be hard though, isn't it?
Me: Yeah, well... (I mean, what am I supposed to say to that?)
He: So, erm, what happened then? How come you can't walk? I mean, why are you in a wheelchair?
Me: What, this? Oh no, I'm just lazy.
I know it probably wasn't fair. And it actually made me feel awkward, so I smiled and gave him the one sentence version. He ended up walking away looking puzzled.
I could have said to him, "I'm really tired," or "Sorry mate, it's complicated and I'm in a bit of a rush," or even,
"Sometimes, it's just easier to get on with my life and try not to think about how I ended up in a wheelchair, with all the inevitable dragging up of thoughts about the things I miss out on, the things I'll never do again. If one person in five asks me how I came to be in a wheelchair, then I have to go over it all three of four times a week. I don't always have the energy. Occasionally, I'd like to go back to being invisible again."
But I was tired, and it's complicated. Besides, I thought it was funny.
Today's article in The Times was all about fellow Back Up wheelchair skills instructor Peter Donnelly and his amazing wheelchair journey overland from Bangladesh using public transport.
Here's his blog, and a link to his fundraising page. He's aiming to raise £5000 towards a rehabilitation centre in the North of Bangladesh.
In other news, I must confess to being decidedly unimpressed with the new signage for disabled parking the the South Bank...
(Should this one pass you by, it's not just an ice cream flavour, it's also cockney rhyming slang)
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