Blog > Thoughts > Other's Thoughts > Ada's Thoughts > Wait, Where Am I?
Wait, Where Am I?
Written by Ada on Monday, May 11, 2009
I recently moved. At my last place, I purchased and used my wheelchair. I didn’t know anyone in my building, nor did I care to. It was a large complex, with a lot of families. I didn’t really care what anyone thought about me as nobody knew me.
But here, at my new place, well it’s much more my kind of people. I mean that it’s mostly single, young, childless, urbanites. I have the hope of developing relationships with people in my new neighborhood, so I have to approach things differently.
I’ve been seen crutching in and around my new building. I’ve also been seen crutch-less. Of course, my master plan is to construct the image of a person who can be seen sometimes AB, and sometimes using assistive technology for my mobility issues. All this, until I will be able to transition into someone who needs to use a wheelchair more, and more. It is going to take some time, but I’m committed to it.
Transition in my work life is going to take much longer, but I’ll tackle that and take it as it comes.
Anyway, after I started using a wheelchair sometimes, I started limping so anyone that had seen me wheeling, then walking, wouldn’t think too much of the difference. I’ve continued that here, and am using my crutch sometimes around my building and around my neighborhood.
But at work, I have to be careful. I work for a small, close knit organization. People can tend to be a bit in your business, especially if they think something is wrong.
So I find myself in my life, walking, limping, crutching, wheeling… and at work, well I have to phase in the limping much more slowly and deliberately.
I was talking with my best friend about all this. He’s fascinated by the complex web required to allow ourselves to move from being an AB with BIID, to a person treating their BIID. It is fascinating.
Sometimes I think… Wait, where am I? I’ll start limping at work and then realize “NO. Not here, not yet.” And the same at home, I must remember that I can’t just run across the street darting between cars, and the next day, use my crutch around the building.
‘Twould be so much easier if we could just do what we needed to do, when we needed to do it without the worry of what society thinks. You know, it’s not easy to have BIID and need and want to be paralyzed, and be stuck in this fully functioning body. Some days BIID is better than others, and I don’t need to use my wheelchair. And other days…well you all know how that goes.
Tags: BIID, Crutch, Limp, transition
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9 Comments
I’ve gone through this more times than I care to count- I ‘phased in’ my vision loss with prosthetic contacts, and in some places, it’s all I can do to remind myself to think blindie, and in others, i’m so comfortable with the roll that I hate having to put on my sighted face. Having some of the vision loss being honestly self induced and probably permanent, I do have an excuse for a medium of being ‘sighted sometimes’ and ‘blind sometimes’.. and it mostly works out.
Until, of course, people who I never corrected on the impression that I’m not completely blind decide to gouge their eyes out in shock when I forget to take out my cane and run across the office to fetch a paper from the printer, which I pause to read in 12-point font. Ooops. Passing is hard work.
Sometimes I used to get up from my desk at work, forgetting that I needed a crutch. Fortunately, my office is not visible from the corridor and I always remembered within a few steps.
It’s a lot easier now, with the left KAFO. There’s nothing to forget, and it locks automatically as soon as I get up. I’m not worried about neighbours seeing me with just a KAFO. I’m also not worried about people at work seeing me in a wheelchair, since several of them already know that I have and use one sometimes.
4 On 13 May, 2009, Phil said:
That’s one of the worst sides of BIID: We seem to be condemned to lying or a double life.
Either we hide BIID, then we suffer a lot and lead a double life.
Or we live it out using wheelchairs, crutches or so, then we have to “pretend” we use them, because we fear that the others won’t accept us simply doing it without a good cover story or consistent behaviour.
Or we get it happen, then we can’t easily admit that we needed it.
What hinders us to tell the truth? There’s an element of fear, but there’s also a rational decision: Only very few people would be able to understand and accept, and so if we don’t want to experience adverse reactions and problems, we have to “lie” to some extent.
I was so happy and free after having come out as gay. And now I face a worse problem, and I can’t find a solution.
Maybe if we all came out at once, people would start to learn and accept.
At least there is more and more about BIID in the media. German private TV (RTL “Explosiv”) brings a feature about David Openshaw, the Australian RBK, tomorrow, and DER SPIEGEL, our biggest national news magazine, is planning to bring an article, too. Will this be good or bad for us?
5 On 13 May, 2009, Phil said:
Sorry, a mistake:
I wanted to write “we have to ‘pretend’ we NEED them” in the third paragraph.
@Phil. “If we all came out at once”. That’s a pretty interesting idea. Where I live, the Gay-Lesbian-Bisexual-Transgender-Intersex community has an annual “coming out” day for those who have not already. I haven’t paid much attention because I am already *way* out. However, I would seriously consider participating in a BIID coming out day if we could get critical mass.
Those of you who have managed to keep things to a double life are a lot smarter than I am. There’s a large number of people who think both of my legs are paralysed; there’s a large number of people who think just my left leg is paralysed; there’s a large number of people who know about my BIID; and there’s just one person (my ski instructor friend) who sees me as able bodied (without BIID). Quadruple life!
Well Lane I thought the same as you it would only be benificial for long term but once it had aired i had people coming up to me in the street hugging me ,or telling me it was very brave but they are happy i got what i wanted and i was happy
its a strange new world people.
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1 On 11 May, 2009, Chloe said:
I have a smile of recognition, reading about the complexities of your life revolving around BIID, Ada.
I had a close call on my ski day last Wednesday. I’d taken off my skis, and was on my way down to the ice cream shop for lunch. For those of you unaware of such things, ice cream, along with wine and chocolate, is one of the seven essential nutrients.
Anyway, my eyes suddenly met with one of the psychotherapists from work. He was talking with someone else, and I immediately averted my eyes hoping he wouldn’t recognise me. Sometimes it’s difficult to place people out of context. I was there with ski boots, pony tail, and no make up. Usually he sees me with a leg brace and long skirt.
He’s not someone I talk to at work. Anytime I pass him in the corridor, his grumpy look gets even more grumpy if I smile at him. I’m glad he’s not *my* psychotherapist. The other thing working in my favor is that I have a “real” limp after a morning of hard core skiing. We’ll see if he says anything next time our paths cross.