The disabled experience... I don't think anybody can fully understand unless they've gone through it themselves.
We are going to a store, where I know there will be a lot of walking, and it's a Saturday, so there will be a lot of people and it's going to be loud. I pack my noise cancelling headphones, along with the usual water bottle and sunglasses. I put on my compression socks and knee braces. I walk out the door with my rollator, put on my sunglasses, then put my rollator into the trunk of my husband's car. We drive off.
We get to the store. I take the rollator out of the trunk and unfold her. We walk into the store, I take off the sunglasses. We go to the food court for lunch first. I stand in line for a while before I have to sit down on my rollator seat while waiting for my order. I get my food and take it to a disabled friendly table. There's bacon and sour cream in my food. I take my histamine enzyme supplement and lactaid pills. I put on my headphones and turn on my music, something to focus on to reset my already garbled senses as I try to tune out the hustle and bustle all around me, ignoring the usual stares being that weird person over there with the rollator and the headphones as I eat.
We walk through the store. I walk in a steady beat to the music to pace myself. It's hot, and I have to stop for water breaks. I ignore more stares, keep my head high, mindful of my posture while trying to avoid the usual amount of children everywhere who are running around and not watching where they're going, who also stop and stare at me, directly in my path, too.
My husband stands in line at checkout, I find a spot out of the way, sit down on my rollator, and wait for him to pay. We exit the store. I take off my headphones and put them away. The clouds have rolled in so I decided to skip the sunglasses. I fold up the rollator and put her into the trunk. We drive off again.
I forgot my chew toy, so I gnaw on an empty soda bottle to keep myself from chewing my fingers. I get a little car sick from the heat and sensory overload. We arrive at the next store, where I go to the bathroom first thing after having drunk a good deal of water. We look for a new couch. After a dozen times of sitting down and standing up again, a dizziness spell hits. Luckily, we are in a furniture store, where I can actually lie down. And thankfully, there aren't too many people in the store, so it's relatively quiet. I wait for my husband to arrange delivery for the new couch and coffee table we just bought, as well as for my heart rate to return to normal.
As much as I can feel safer from a world that is not at all designed for people like me in this little bubble that I am able to create for myself, it can be a very lonely existence. And sometimes, it alone makes me want to weep.
