transabled.org

 

• About
• Login
• Contact
• Accessibility

Google Search:
Web transabled.org Go

 

Blog > Thoughts > Other's Thoughts > Chloe's Thoughts > BIID Acceptance

BIID Acceptance

Written by Chloe on Thursday, December 24, 2009

On Saturday we had one of my close friends over for dinner. She has multiple disabilities from birth, and is completely accepting and supportive of my BIID. The occasion for dinner was her recent engagement to be married, and she wanted to introduce her fiance to us. It seemed important to her that he and I would approve of each other.

It is common for me to wear two leg braces at the weekend. So it was on Saturday.

Alicia and I went shopping at Wal Mart before dinner so that she could get some last minute supplies for her road trip on Sunday. As we were sitting on the couch together, getting ready to leave, I had a thought. Yes, Chloe had better be careful; thoughts can vex the brain. Dangerous stuff!

My thought was that two years ago I was wearing leg braces at weekends. However, the idea of going out shopping like that would have scared the crap out of me. The idea of telling Alicia, or anybody else ever, that I actually wanted to be paralysed would have scared the crap out of me. Quite a few things relating to BIID can seem daunting to undertake.

I just finished rereading "From There To Here", a collection of autobiographical essays by people with spinal cord injuries. This time I read it very slowly, trying to catch every psychological nuance. I am reminded of something from the last essay, by a teenage girl fairly newly paraplegic. "At first, many of these activities seemed intimidating, either because I wasn’t sure how I would do them or because it meant being around new people. But the first time is always the hardest."

There are parallels between accepting one’s paraplegia and accepting one’s BIID. Going to the store means being around new people and interacting with them. If you go to Wal Mart with two KAFOs and two crutches, some people are going to look. It’s just the way it is; you get used to it. Sometimes I wonder how it seemed so scary before, when it seems so normal now. As the girl says, the first time is the hardest. Eventually interacting with people from wheelchair or leg braces loses the fear factor, and it’s just your normal life.

The same goes for physical things. A year ago the prospect of a flight of steps, when I was out with leg braces, would scare me. Now I just have at it; no need to unlock a knee. Practice makes perfect.

Alicia and I still sitting on the couch; I asked her how she had interpreted my use of leg braces two years ago. She said that she saw them as bandages for my emotional wounds, and that they would be my teacher. There is some truth to that. It seems quite perceptive in the absence of knowledge of BIID.

There were about half a dozen people in wheelchairs at the Wal Mart. I wonder what they think about me walking around with leg braces and crutches. Dunno; probably nothing.

We returned home fifteen minutes before our guests. Dinner was already in the oven. I plonked myself back in the wheelchair, excited to meet my friend’s fiance.

In addition to the people on this site, I have told around a hundred people about my BIID. As with all the other BIID stuff, it gets easier and less scary with practice. The reasons for this seem to fall into two categories; there are both psychological and sociological aspects.

The psychological components include the gradual dissipation of shame, guilt and, well, weirdness. Mere familiarity engenders comfort and self confidence. For me, the sociological components are even more important. Peer pressure has been the greatest facilitator. This is what made it a no brainer to be completely open with my friend’s fiance.

I highly recommend peer pressure. Once you have made your first inroads with telling people about BIID, subsequent disclosures in the presence of accepting friends makes it easier. Firstly you receive emotional support. Secondly there is social pressure to conform to the majority viewpoint. Disclosures in the presence of Alicia usually elicit glances at her face to assess her attitude. For Saturday’s dinner I also had total support from my friend, whose disabilities add further weight to her opinion. It would be extremely unlikely that her fiance might express any dissenting view on the matter of my BIID in the face of such social pressure.

Actually, I had no idea what my friend might have already told her fiance about me. I leave such things to the individual’s discretion.

Dinner conversation was lively. My friend and I had a one on one conversation about her disabilities. She doesn’t wait to be asked; she knows that I’m interested. Then she asked me how I’m enjoying my wheelchair.

My friend’s fiance and I found that we had plenty in common, and we got on really well. He used to work at the ski resort where I had a season ticket last year. The camaraderie of people who ski at this particular resort is tremendous. A couple of quotes from skiing guidebooks will give you an idea why. "This is the #1 ski area in the USA for true expert skiers". Another guidebook says of this ski area "If you take a look at it and still want to ski it, you obviously know what you are doing. The mountain does not hide its vertical rocky terrain and it takes expert skills just to access much of it. This mountain is legendary for its aggressive steeps…"

The ski resort is the only one in my state to have a chute with a degree of difficulty as high as 9.75 that is actually marked as a run on the official trail map. The definition of that kind of degree of difficulty includes that a minor mistake may prove fatal to the most expert of skiers. The dinner conversation included a discussion on the psychology of skiing runs wherein a small error of judgement, lack of confidence or lack of skill can result in serious injury or death. It turns out that my new acquaintance and I have skied off some of the same cliffs, and launched ourselves into some of the same near vertical chutes. I think I described that 9.75 chute in one of my posts last year. The access requires traversing a cliff ledge which is narrow enough in places that only one ski will fit on it (fortunately the right ski). The management saw fit to bolt a rope into the cliff face to hang on to, such that it is a possible maneuver. Then you have to crawl up a narrow chute on all fours to reach the knife-edge ridgeline. At the top you look over the edge at the near vertical you are about to ski down between rocky cliffs, and say "Oh shit!" because there is no other way out. People who do these things have a lot of respect for each other.

The point of my long discourse here about skiing is that if you can find common ground with somebody, they are less likely to be in any way critical of BIID.

My friend’s fiance had taken a couple of years off skiing, but was back at that resort doing the same things I was doing last season. I asked him the reason for the non-skiing interlude. "Spinal compression injury". What!!! "Compression fracture of T12". What!!! No, I didn’t actually say "What!!!", but I’d swear that my ears literally twitched with interest. Of course I asked him for all of the details.

It turns out that he not only does the same skiing as I do, but also the same hiking. I knew exactly the fifteen foot cliff that he had fallen off. I had hiked there on the tenth of May 2003 (yes, I take notes). He didn’t seem at all surprised that I asked for every detail of the fall, orientation of landing, etc. I had figured out by then that he must have been forewarned about my BIID. Nothing about my wheelchair or braces came up all evening. It clearly wasn’t an issue.

Of course I now have a renewed interest in "falling" off cliffs while hiking. The bad news is that breaking your back ain’t enough folks! He used a cane for a couple of years, but now has no detectable limp. I know four people who broke their backs and ended up with no more residual paralysis than I have.

When our guests left, my friend and I kissed and exchanged "I love you". Her fiance and I exchanged a warm embrace. He expressed how cool it was to meet someone who skis the same stuff. I think he was impressed with my being a woman twice his age. I like him. We approve.

My friend’s disabilities make independent living difficult. I’m glad that she’ll be moving in with someone who cares about her.

I’m glad to have friends who don’t fuss over my BIID. I’m glad that I no longer have the urge to make a fuss about it. I’ll end with another quote by an author of an essay in "From There To Here". "I like the course my life has taken, because it’s really the course I chose. It’s an ongoing process, a journey, an opportunity to keep exploring and expanding my horizons". Did she really choose to ski into a tree and become quadriplegic? Well, choice is not the same as intent. No, she did not intend this. However, she chose to ski; she chose to ski fast; she chose to ski near a tree. I make the same choices. She also chose to accept her quadriplegia and get on with life. I choose to accept my BIID. That is the first step towards other people’s acceptance of my BIID. I choose to embrace BIID as an ongoing process, a journey, an opportunity to keep exploring and expanding my horizons. Is it not a sin to suppress such a precious gift from the universe?

Tags: Acceptance, BIID, Cliffs, Compression Fracture, Crutches, Disabled, Disclosures, Hiking, Independent Living, KAFOs, Leg Braces, Paralysed, Paraplegia, Quadriplegia, Skiing, Spinal Cord Injuries, T12, Wheelchair

Twitter Updates

Follow me on Twitter