This will sound weird when I start, but I promise if you read the whole thing it will make sense.
A while back (10, 12 years) I had major heart surgery. And so for a few weeks after I had problems doing some things, like walking for more than ten, fifteen minutes at a time, or sitting up right for more than five minutes.
But the doctors said I needed “exercise” (bastards) so my beloved and I would go out to the shops, and she’d made me walk (because she loved me) and we’d take a wheelchair with us.
Aside from the whole “walking” thing it was kind of fun, because imagine two people walking down the high street, pushing an empty wheelchair. One of them carrying a towel (and hugging it tightly) and the other walking slowly for no apparent reason. The number of strange and confused looks we got was really hilarious at times. Especially after I got tired and had to sit in the chair so she could push me for a while (which happened a lot, because of - you know - the surgery and the tired) and we saw someone who had seen us a few minutes earlier when I was up and walking about as if I was fine.
Needless to say I seldom, if ever, gave up my seat on the bus, train, bench or anywhere else if anyone asked. Even if the person asking was 101 years old. I did explain why, and no one argued with me, but sometimes I got some dirty looks for that as well. Because I looked young and fit with no physical injuries.
It wasn’t forever, and I never claimed to be disabled, and after eight or nine weeks I could bound about like a gazelle on heat. But those first few weeks? We got a lot of strange looks. And I know I said it was hilarious, but only because if I had decided to take offence then I would have whacked the wheelchair into so many people I probably would have been arrested :)
(The towel, if you were wondering, was for my chest. Having your chest cracked open and put back together hurts a lot, but then if you sneeze or cough oh my sweet fucking god it hurts so much more. Putting a towel against it mitigates it some but still – fucking ow!!)
This will sound weird when I start, but I promise if you read the whole thing it will make sense.
A while back (10, 12 years) I had major heart surgery. And so for a few weeks after I had problems doing some things, like walking for more than ten, fifteen minutes at a time, or sitting up right for more than five minutes.
But the doctors said I needed “exercise” (bastards) so my beloved and I would go out to the shops, and she’d made me walk (because she loved me) and we’d take a wheelchair with us.
Aside from the whole “walking” thing it was kind of fun, because imagine two people walking down the high street, pushing an empty wheelchair. One of them carrying a towel (and hugging it tightly) and the other walking slowly for no apparent reason. The number of strange and confused looks we got was really hilarious at times. Especially after I got tired and had to sit in the chair so she could push me for a while (which happened a lot, because of - you know - the surgery and the tired) and we saw someone who had seen us a few minutes earlier when I was up and walking about as if I was fine.
Needless to say I seldom, if ever, gave up my seat on the bus, train, bench or anywhere else if anyone asked. Even if the person asking was 101 years old. I did explain why, and no one argued with me, but sometimes I got some dirty looks for that as well. Because I looked young and fit with no physical injuries.
It wasn’t forever, and I never claimed to be disabled, and after eight or nine weeks I could bound about like a gazelle on heat. But those first few weeks? We got a lot of strange looks. And I know I said it was hilarious, but only because if I had decided to take offence then I would have whacked the wheelchair into so many people I probably would have been arrested :)
(The towel, if you were wondering, was for my chest. Having your chest cracked open and put back together hurts a lot, but then if you sneeze or cough oh my sweet fucking god it hurts so much more. Putting a towel against it mitigates it some but still – fucking ow!!)