Fifteen on Friday is a space where I write about something related to my experience of disability and illness. It stems from ‘five-minute Friday when I followed prompts set by the originator of the site, and I do this with her blessing. It takes me fifteen minutes often, to type what others would type in five, usually just because I get so tired!
They don’t know me like I do…
This week, it’s a subject that really riles me, and so I will do my best not to rant. I should acknowledge as well, that I do this too, though I shouldn’t, given how annoyed I get when people do it to me. So what is it that so annoys me? I can’t stand people making ‘snap’ decisions based on a snippet of information, or on how I look, specifically snap decisions on the severity or lack thereof, of my disability, or that I ‘look’ healthy, so I am healthy, which just drives me mad. Someone else said recently that ‘I hide being ill very well!’ I think so too!
It would be a lot easier to say, ‘I know the truth, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks’, but I’ve always cared. My friend known as ‘Chronic Rants’ blogged how it bugs her people always have to see the negatives in new treatments she tries, or tell her horror stories of how it went wrong for their friend’s friend, their mother, or who ever. Again, people making snap judgements based on a little information. Chronic Rants admits she does it, far too often. I do too. It still smarts when I am on the receiving end.
But you don’t look disabled!
If I am sat in a chair, or laid in a bed, I don’t ‘look’ disabled (nor would I want to). The irony is, neglect to take my cocktail of tablets and I look very disabled indeed, flailing about with arms and legs, shaking when I hold anything, doubled over in pain (which I often am even with the tablets). People see me looking ‘normal’ therefore and think ‘her disability is not that bad’ and voice it. I’ve even had a consultant pummel my arm years ago trying to find a vein, with me almost in tears ‘what’s wrong?’ he says.
‘My arm hurts a lot, cos I have cerebral palsy’
He says, incredulously, ‘You have cerebral palsy? Nobody told me (no surprise there!) But you don’t look like you have cerebral palsy’.He’s not the only one. Nurses have made me walk because I don’t look disabled enough to need a hospital wheelchair, so I’d only have to walk the wee bit to the taxi) and others have asked ‘But how do you manage at home?’ Erm… that’s the point (of asking for help) I don’t. I have invisible disabilities, but I also have a physical disability that looks invisible in certain situations… weird!
However, they don’t see the exhaustion after a few steps, the physio does, or the pain shooting down my legs from trying to stay upright with a Zimmer frame after said steps. They don’t see all the things I can’t do that I have to ask ‘sidekicks’ to do, while wishing I didn’t have to ask so often. They don’t see me doubled over in pain, the professionals in and out of my flat, be they joint care manager, agency manager, nurses, ‘sidekicks’, other nurses for appointments, and house visits from doctors when I can’t even make it down a street or two to the surgery.
Yes, I know, I should put the violins away now!! I am thankful that I can talk (though others may not be when I just don’t shhhh!!), I have an electric wheelchair to get about (though it doesn’t fit in taxis — another story!) and I can move my arms and legs enough to do some things (eat, drink, choose lighter weight products in the supermarket, drive my wheelchair (badly…!) and so on.
It’s something I have to live with, but that will continue to bug me! I guess we all have pet hates like that!