Good evening, and thank you to you if you’re taking the time to read this.
I’ve had a ‘no splint Sunday’ which means there’s a 99/100% chance I’ve not been outside, and probably the same chance I’ve stayed in my jammies all day too – cuff me! Going to try to focus my mind on something other than Pointless, The Antiques Roadshow or the back of my eyelids for half an hour (I’m staying with my Gran rn).
I’ve also wanted to write about this experience I had for a while now, but as always, I don’t want to come across as preaching or forcing what I think in someone’s face because it’s not pleasant, and usually does more damage than good. So, I’m going to try my very best to create a picture of the situation, and I’ll add in the impact it had on my thinking, and you can take from it what you will.
SETTING THE SCENE:
Approximately mid March 2019, a good chunk into our unbelievable New Zealand (have I mentioned I lived there orrr) campervan trip. My good friend, J and I had booked to go on a dolphin watching boat trip. I was in the chair to get to the dock and we left it in the office while we went on the boat. I stood up from the wheelchair, I was wearing trousers so my splints not in plain sight and got ready to board for the next piece of our adventure.
There were a few steps up to the side of the boat, one step over onto it and back down onto the floor of the boat. As I graced the steps with my presence, usually a swing, stomp and a leap of faith, the captain stretched his hand out to help me over. I am of course also holding onto J. Now, I get it, people probably are unexpectant to how much help I need when it comes to stairs. If you have a quick think about the movement, muscles and balance the ‘average’ foot exerts when going up a step, then for me with no movement below the knee – feet strapped in an ‘L’ shape, it’s a good old shove and push I need from a person/wall/whatever I can hold onto. So there I am getting on and the gentleman made a remark along the lines of ‘oh you’re heavier than me’ followed by ‘what happened to your legs?’
I let the first comment go and thought to myself if I was heavier than him, at least my weight wasn’t entirely in cheek. Then for the second comment/question I just gave the bank answer – I have a medical condition. I have mixed/situational feelings and responses to said question but that was fine. Here though, is where the plot thickens.
Throughout the trip we saw sooooo many Hector dolphins, they were swimming along and jumping up and down in front and around us. We also stopped to see seals and wildlife native to New Zealand. Every so often though, Mr Capitano would sneak up behind me and ask more questions about my legs. What’s the condition, how did it happen, told me his dead granny had arthritis when she was older and how terrible it was, and the old classic – gave me his two cents on what he thought about me travelling, y’know being an invalid and all. He didn’t seem to be telling any of the other tourists he thought it was fabulous that they were travelling and seeing the world. LOL.
On this specific tour J had kept a bit of it a surprise from me – a visit to Bird Island. I HATE BIRDS. And the Brucie Bonus was a 40 min hike up to a viewpoint. Being the excellent sport that I am, I kindly got off the boat then refused to go over the bridge onto the island haha. J gave me a pep talk and promised to protect me from the tiny birds and we got on our way to a little bird bath seating area, 5 mins into the hike. We resumed the ‘difficulty HIGH’ walking position where J walks backwards, I hold both her hands and she pulls and balances and I push as best possible to get the old steps going. As this is second nature to us now, we are just chatting away, J runs up to see how much further, I say I can’t then we make it. As we are ascending to the desired seating area – GUESS WHO SNEAKS UP AGAIN – yep, El Capitano.
He’s just as entitled to be on that island as us, he bloomin drove us there, but the first thing that came out of his mouth – I kid you not – was ‘you must get special treatment on planes, that’s a long way you’ve come from Scotland’, then asked if I got on the plane first, and if I got extra leg room, how was it flying with a disability YADAYADA. You get the point.
So, I really mean no disrespect or ill thinking of this guy. He asked questions that people have and probably always will. I have a pretty open approach to people, I cannot stand it when someone is asking just to be nosey – if it’s the first thing people say to me then I’m not interested. If though, people are genuinely interested in me as a person then I have all the time in the world.
However, the part of this exchange that stuck with me the most, was that he has labelled me/saw me as disabled, and he could not see me as anything else.
Every conversation he started with me was about being disabled.
As he sat with us at the bird bath, we found out a few things about him while chatting, he had also travelled, he had been to Scotland, he loves New Zealand etc, there were a number of things I found out about him that this middle aged Kiwi man and I had a common ground, but none of that showed up for him during the time we were together anyway.
It made me think about other situations in life where we close off and create tunnel vision on others and even ourselves. Whether we see someone as not worthy of our time because of the way they dress or how much or little money they have. Seeing yourself as resilient and strong after dealing with negative life events can sometimes leave no room to see yourself as vulnerable and grieving when you need a little break. Perceiving someone as always happy, what conclusions/judgements do we make if they have a bad day?
From the man on the boat, our mates, to strangers we walk past on the street – what could be created if we all related to people!?
This thinking for me is also influenced by what I learned and took on while attending Landmark which I might do another post on.
SPLINT UP, LOOK SHARP 