Monday, May 7, 2012

My Life as a Bush

No, not George W, Laura, Jeb or Jenna. I mean the type that grows in the ground. A shrub. A plant.
I have become a bush--low growing and inanimate.
Let me explain.
For those of you who have been following this, you'll know that I broke my pelvis ten days ago and can only get to doctor's visits and therapy in a wheelchair. And everything I've read about being confined to a wheelchair is true.
1. People don't look at you. I was wheeled past the hot tub with three friends sitting in it and not one of them noticed me.
2.People talk to your caregiver, not you, as if there is something wrong with your mental process, not your legs.
3.And the most recent one--people treat you like an inanimate object. I was parked outside my health club where I had been swimming, waiting for John to drive the car up to the front entrance, when a group of people came out. I was parked beside a shrub in a tub. They stood around me, within a distance I'd normally see as an infringement of personal space, and talked over me, across me, as if I too was growing in a tub.
I find all this fascinating and I'm going to read up on it. I'm also taking notes and have to use a wheelchair bound character in a future book. Think of what she could overhear and observe!

13 comments:

  1. One of my favorite Bible quotes, " All things work together for good..." I see you taking this bad experience and learniing from it, using what you've learned to help others. I plan to make it a point to make eye contact with every wheelchair-bound person I meet, to smile and say hello. Blessings Rhys!

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  2. My husband, also a writer, uses a wheelchair and has written about this very subject. As we have often commented, most of us are temporarily able-bodied--all likely to experience some sort of injury that will affect us physically. Steve's memoir, ThreeQuarters, Two Dimes and a Nickel sheds some light on injury and recovery and "normalcy." You've learned all the hard lessons fast. I wish you a speedy recovery-so sorry you're going through this, Rhys.

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  3. My best friend is generally in a wheel chair, and I often push when we're moving around a lot.

    Even when she's the person they want to talk to, people still often come up to me first, like I'm her keeper or something. (I really think I ought to get one of those curly Secret Service ear pieces, you know?)

    It doesn't happen as much as it used to, though. I think it's partly a matter of body language. I used to have to point to her, or say "I'm just the dray horse" but now I think I exude "dray horse" and they actually look at her more than they used to.

    There are some people who are just, I don't know, crazy? Friend was wheeling herself to her office, and stopped at her office door to dig out her key, when suddenly she found herself flying down the hallway, and this sticky sweet, syrupy voice she'd never heard before said "And where do WE want to go today?"

    This woman, without warning, or facing her or talking to her or asking permission, or introducing herself, had simply grabbed her chair and started pushing her down the hall! And she was angry when my friend, told her to stop! "I was being nice!" she declared, and went off in a huff.

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    1. I'm laughing! I have learned to ask first. At work we had two wheelchair people. One did just fine opening doors and one had to struggle. I needed to ask before helping. Good training.

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    2. The thing is, this woman didn't even bother to find out what my friend might need. She didn't even make her presence known. She laid hands on her chair and pushed her toward parts unknown.

      This was more than trying to be helpful and screwing up -- this was a case of assault. (I mean, literally, she could have been charged.)

      Imagine yourself being grabbed and propelled away from where you're standing, by a complete stranger who stays out of your sight.

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  4. You should be doing a wheelchair test of your home and your favorite places. Complain if you can't visit somewhere in a wheelchair. You'll be doing the wheelchair world a favor.

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  5. I do remember approaching a person in a wheelchair and asking if he'd like a ride to the top of the hill. He was doing fine by himself, but it looked like a lot of work. He laughed, thought about it a minute and said sure. We talked while I pushed. Nice encounter.

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    1. Asking is good. People often need a little physical assistance, but the usually don't need someone to "take care" of them and make decisions for them.

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  6. Rhys, I spent quite a while in a wheelchair before neurosurgery gave me back use of my left leg, and I encountered the same attitudes. I do think a person in a wheelchair would make a good detective since they're so invisible to the temporarily-able around them. There would be problems for such a character, however. I remember making my way into the women's restroom at a Border's once, but being unable to pull open the door to the outside world again because I was too low to the ground and it was too heavy. Fortunately, my husband worried and came looking for me, heard me calling for help, and opened the door to let me out.

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  7. Rhys, this gives me hope, for you to voice this here, in this way. Thank you. It is all so very true. As a quad (tetra), when I meet someone who doesn't treat me that way, I am startled. It usually turns out they have a wheelie family member or, as the lovely woman I met one day waiting for our mammograms, they are in the rehab field.

    I would love to see you write this character.

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  8. What a sad comment on our society -- but a great character idea! I know in my grandparents' day (early 1900s) people in wheelchairs were treated even worse: they were not allowed in public, as though their injury were shameful or might be contagious. How awful. There was also another name for wheelchairs then, perambulors or something.

    Cathy AJ

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  9. What a great idea! So sorry you broke your pelvis. It must have been excruciating. But you certainly know how to make lemonade from lemons. And what a great lemonade. Your character certainly would overhear things missed by ambulatory people.

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  10. I just wrote a post about my experiences having to use a cane. One of my commenters sent me here. I'm so glad they did. Great observations on how the disabled are viewed. After I had a tumor removed from my hip I was left needing a walker. I've now graduated to a cane, but I still get treated just the same. I often feel like a non-entity. It's so odd.

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