There are some cripples who can easily get away with appearing not to be crippled at all, at least for a little while. But in the long run, this is always a futile proposition.
"Uncle Frank, take me to the park." "Can't. Legs don't work."
Because of the circumstances, I had no say on what was packed for the months I spent at an out-of-state rehab. Thinking it was practical, my mom packed me every roomy, deep V-neck T-shirt ...
To be vulnerable is to be human, so to pretend that you’re not vulnerable is to pretend to be superhuman. And I hate that superhuman cripple stereotype.
I agreed to get back out on the water with friends last summer on a hot September day. It was good, but I was stuck in one place since the boat was not made for a wheelchair...
"Stick. Rock. Glass." "You don't need to point out every obstacle. I've been on a sidewalk before."
I spent a month planning what to say at my high school graduation. Public speaking freaked me out.
"Hey Frank, you coming to the protest?" "Those sons of bitches. What are we protesting?"
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.
When I was first injured back in the mid-2000s, I did not have enough finger dexterity to dial my cell phone well. Instead, I used a Motorola phone that allowed me to make calls by saying “abracadabra.” It was a lot like summoning Siri, only it kept mistakenly activating phone calls.