I need to figure something out. Why is it that I really get my back up when I hear politicians refer to the “most vulnerable” citizens? They do it all the time, and when they do, they always say they’re trying to protect the “most vulnerable.” The ones who say it most emphatically are those who want to cut the crap out of stuff like Social Security or Medicaid and then say they’re “try­ing to preserve scarce resources” so they can serve the “most vulnerable.”

When they say “most vulnerable” they want everyone to envision some weak and defenseless victim of fate. That’s intended to include cripples like me. We’re the ones who need their protection. And it makes me feel like angrily tearing up the “most vulnerable” label and throw­ing the pieces all over the floor just so nobody gets the impression that it refers to me. I feel it’s my duty to make it clear that I’m no more vul­nerable than the walking/talking guy next door!

But who am I kidding? Of course I’m way more vulnerable than the walking/talking guy next door. I employ a crew of people to help me do stuff like get in and out of bed every day. I call them my pit crew. If one of them doesn’t show up, I have to scramble to find a way to get in and out of bed. It shoots the whole day to hell. But the walking/talking guy next door doesn’t have to worry about that because he doesn’t need any of that kind of help. And what if there’s a natural disaster, like a flood? The first responders will come rescue the walking/talking guy next door with a rowboat. But I doubt that rowboat will be wheelchair accessible. At best, the first respond­ers might airlift me to the closest nursing home that’s only partially submerged. I get to sleep with the fishes. But most likely I’ll be left at home to drown. And even if I don’t drown, how are my pit crew mem­bers going to get to me in a flood? Will the first responders bring them to me in a rowboat? I doubt it. I’m pretty much screwed no matter how you slice it.

So why am I so afraid to face up to my enhanced vulnerability? Why play this big macho game of denial? It’s a losing game. Everybody is one big amorphous blob of vulnerability. Everything could fall apart for any­one at any minute. That ain’t such a bad thing. Why don’t I give myself a break and embrace that reality? Wouldn’t that be liberating? 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.

But I don’t care. I don’t have any trouble acknowledging that my life is more of a house of cards than the walking/talking guy next door. But I’ll tell you what makes me that way the most. It’s those people who try to cut the crap out of programs like Social Security and Medicaid and then say they’re doing it to protect the “most vulnerable.” They are the scariest predators of all. Nothing makes me feel more vulnerable than when they try to cut the crap out of the state program that pays the wages of my pit crew.

And if being the “most vulner­able” means being defenseless, then they sure can’t be talking about me. Whenever somebody tries to cut the crap out of the program that pays the wages of my pit crew, the first thing I’m moved to do is get together with others and fight back hard. We don’t hide from the preda­tors. We stalk them. We show up uninvited in their offices, homes and churches. We sue them. Whatever it takes to make them back off. If I was defenseless, I’d be way more than “most vulnerable.” I’d be dead.

So I guess when I reject the label of “most vulnerable,” I’m not deny­ing my enhanced vulnerability as a cripple. I guess I’m doing the oppo­site. I’m defining my vulnerability for what it really is, so I won’t be so vulnerable to the predators who call me “most vulnerable.”

Thanks. I think I understand it now.