I used to take a group of disabled individuals out for a meal at the place they chose. There were stares when we arrived. They told me to just order for a deaf blind young man because the did not know sign language. I did know ASL,had signed with deaf blind before, discovered he signed,read braille,plus he was able to hear with hearing aids but pretended not to hear lol. So I read the menu slowly until he indicated yes. We had it down. It took time. Who cares. He deserved to make his choice like everyone else. He was always smiling and they could not get it that this young man had a mind and maybe a different way of being in this life but who says it was less?

 

I loved our group outings. Sure there were things that happened but I would laugh and say hey are you making the floor your plate or something to break tension. They were used to having people be annoyed with them. How can a person learn social skills under so much pressure. I made a mess of things too. One time we went to pick oranges And I put the bag in the back seat of the van. I parked on a slight hill and when I opened the door, there they went rolling everywhere as we watched. I gasped and then laughed to see oranges rolling down all around. Everyone helped chase and pick up. I often screwed up and laughed it off saying there I go again. I believe I was authentic,not afraid of troubles,able to risk,and was more human so we bonded better than authoritarian types. And the fun stayed fun.

 

When it was me the disabled one,my lighthearted humor gone, all I heard was how lucky I was but I could not imagine how it was going to be. I cannot begin to describe myself to most folks so I do not. I carry on whenever whereever and Maybe my hand works but how do I explain my plate is moving or that I miss stabbing food with a fork because my depth perception is off. They think my hand is ok because it moves but I have no sense of temperature,cant feel normally with dominant hand so it took a while to work on using and writing. I journaled so much.

 

Anyway I go out to dinner and I take insulin at the table. What would miss manners say? Who cares. It keeps me alive and eating. I wont let that ruin a chance for Chinese food. I hope that my appreciation makes up for the hassle it is to take me. When I go to appountments alone, I ask for whatever I need with appreciation not apology. Some are glad to help and be nice. The others I forget about. Now I state how I need to be helped without the much ado about nothing. The more comfortable I am,like whatever in the world is more normal than this,then others are less awkward. If people stare I smile back at them. Usually it is not me blushing. Some are curious or want to keep a protective eye out to help.

I remember that song " He ain't heavy. He's my brother." I have felt that,done that for others. So I do not have time for anyone who thinks they could not be in my wheelchair or suffering in pain.

 

Sure I often feel disgusted this is me but not as often now. Who else is gonna love me like I do? I agree with posts that say recovery is not return Back in time. Perhaps it is more than brain damage involved with my personality changes as I grow and evolve.

 

At best, we can show them how it is done with class. I channel Uncle Buck sometimes though!!!!