My condition, whatever the heck it is, causes my body to not want to go where I tell it to. I can walk short distances with minimal problem (30-50 feet at most), after that my legs decide to go east and west while the rest of me is going north or south. This can make for an interesting visual experience for someone watching. For those that say I can’t dance, just watch me walk a few yards – I look like something out of an ’80’s disco.
The point of this is, the other day I was walking into the library when I passed a women who appeared to be in her late 40’s or early 50’s. She stopped me and asked, “Is there something really wrong with your foot, or are you just faking?” Truthfully I went bat crap nuts! I know it isn’t right, but I went off on her like a drunk trucker. I probably called her every name in the book, and she took off running across the parking lot. To make matters embarrassing, when I turned around there was a woman standing there with two young, 7 or 8 years old, kids. The noble thing to have done would have been to apologize, but I was so pissed that I just hobbled into the building.
This isn’t the first time I have had to deal with the ignorance of people. I was at a large retailer (think big blue signs and yellow smiley faces) a few weeks ago and had a run in with another woman. Late last year, when it was becoming more and more apparent that walking was not working for me, I purchased a used wheelchair to use to go shopping. I was in my trusty chair, and attempting to navigate around a corner with my shopping cart in front of me when I ran into a family who did not know how to control their children.
The two kids were all over the place, running back and forth across the aisle, and getting in everyone’s way. I had said excuse me several times, but just got glared at by the mother. When I finally was able to make the turn I muttered under my breath that she needed to control her kids. I guess my muttering is louder than I thought, because she exploded on me.
“If you got something to say, say it to my face,” she shouted at me.
So I obliged. I told her that her kids were rude, and that she needed to get them under control. She advised me that I needed to mind my own “F***ing business” and that her kids where just being kids. Her kids were probably 10 and 11, old enough to have MANNERS!
It is hard enough getting around, given my circumstance, so I don’t need some she-devil giving me hell just because I am trying to live my life. Again, the argument escalated, and she got up (actually bent down) into my face. Truthfully, I was hoping that she would in some form or fashion touch or push me. Even though I was in a wheelchair, I have had enough DT training where I would have defended myself and put her into the wall.
Both of these incidents happened within two weeks of each other, and I am just amazed at how ignorant people are when it comes to people with mobility problems. Maybe I need to hire a chaperone to go with me when I’m in public so I don’t kick some ignoramus’ ass. I can’t pay money, but they would get the pleasure of my cheerful and serene company.