The disability community lost one of its best when longtime activist Marca Bristo passed. Looking back at what made her so powerful.
Socialism is what gets me out of bed every day. If getting me out of bed was left up to the greedy pigs, I’d have no choice but to check into one of the nursing home chains they own, without possibility of parole.
So in cold weather I was spending an increasing amount of time hiding indoors. And I’m really susceptible to cabin fever, so that sucked big-time. Then I’d give myself the old blower pep talk.
When you played with your favorite childhood dolls, did you ever wish those dolls were crippled like you?
I wanted to write about the overly-medicalized stereotypical images of caregiving a lot of people carry around in their heads, so I entered the word “caregiver” into a search engine and then clicked images.
By the time the end of June rolls around, I will be either 63 years old or dead. I’m betting hard on the former.
Even when I do see crippled characters in movies and on TV shows, they still don’t look anything like me.
I imagine there is some set of etiquette rules that cripples are supposed to follow when lining up for treatments and cures, eh?
What does this social experiment prove? I guess it proves that Costco bouncers are somehow intimidated by my crippledness. Thus, they give me special treatment. But should I be insulted by that?