Disabled culture is having a Dr's appointment later this week with someone new and being so nervous bc you're using crutches.
Not because mobility aids are bad - on the contrary, they are WONDERFUL - but because you've had such bad experiences in the past with orthopedics who tell you that you don't deserve to use them, even if you're knees are horrendously unstable and it helps with the pain of standing/walking.
New doctor who I have never met + previous medical trauma + generalized anxiety = upset man with a huge fear of trying.
My big sister is coming along to help me advocate for access to a wheelchair so I can actually leave my apartment for more than a five minute 'walk' without my pain getting so bad it makes me sick. But I'm still so fucking scared bc I don't know this dude. I don't know this office. I don't know the nurses or location. I'm too disabled to function but not disabled enough to be taken seriously bc of my age.
I hate this. I hate that I'm nervous. I hate that I'm hopeful. I hate that this is the hand of cards I was dealt and nobody seems to hear me when I ask for help beyond my friends and family. I hate this.
But I'm going to do it.
Because every bad response hurts, but it brings me closer to an answer, to the help I need.
Sometimes being disabled is an obstacle course, run in the dark with only your touch to guide you. But there's an end. You will find the end. You will find your prize. You will win this fight with tlexternal factors. You just have to hang on, even if it feels like you're clinging to a branch in a hurricane.
Other people don't experience this. Other people cannot fathom it. We are at war, and able bodied people do not know. We are warriors, and we will not stop. We cannot stop.
And I'm proud of myself, my derelict body, and all my fellow struggling siblings who fight this same battle. We are stronger than they will ever know.












