I’ve been intending to get the paperwork done for a handicap hang tag for the car for a while now. Over a year actually. My husband took the initiative to help me get it done. We dropped the paperwork off and I promptly forgot about it. We’ve lived without it this long so it frankly slipped my brain-fog-addled mind. And then today it came. It’s been a week. A WEEK!
My first reaction was just pure awe. I had no idea that our state’s bureaucracy was capable of functioning that quickly. I said the niceties about it that I’m supposed to say. This will help. And I found immediately excusing myself for needing it before even using it. “I won’t use it all the time.” And, “I’ll only use it when it can’t be helped.”
And as the evening comes to a close, I find myself sitting feeling pretty awful about the whole thing. To be fair, shark week is just around the corner and I’m on high doses of prednisone, both of which make me pretty emotional. You see, I’m completely aware of the burden of invisible illness. I’m also aware of the prejudice against overweight people using handicap aids. I am someone that doesn’t enjoy being in the spotlight at all. In fact, I’d like nothing more than to just be invisible most of the time. And I know from experience that handicap aids make you stick out and draw judgement quickly from a public that can be less than empathetic.
A year ago I was walking with a cane or walker most of the time. I also stopped driving for a time because it simply wasn’t safe to do so. I saw the looks from people who judged me for using a cane or a walker. I even had someone kick my cane out from under me. I was fortunate enough not to need my cane for support most of the time. It was there for balance when standing still or turning, more than anything. I know that when I didn’t immediately fall when someone kicked it out from under me, they felt vindicated. They believed they’d caught me in a lie. I knew when I left my walker parked somewhere and walked the few steps to a nurse’s desk or to grab something off a store shelf, judging people watched and thought “aha she doesn’t really need that.”
When I worry about these things I remember that beautiful quote: “How other people treat you says more about them than it does about you.” I can’t control how others see me when I use mobility aids and disability accommodations with an invisible illness. What I can control is how I respond to their judging stares or words…I can say to myself “How unfortunate a life one must lead to feel that they don’t have enough sympathy and empathy to offer to a fellow human being.” I can use my own self-awareness to offer them compassion at feeling the need to judge others. That’s not easy. When judged or met with anger I think the human response is to meet it in kind, but those negative emotions just poison us…and we spoonies have enough negativity in our lives! I challenge myself to meet their judgement with compassion and sympathy and patience. Perhaps the best way to combat the epidemic of invalidation of invisible illness is to lead by example.
