I Know You See Me -

Because I'm the one, you push past in the aisles, checkout lines, streets, and sidewalks. I walk with a cane and try to stay out of your way, but still, you grumble, curse, hurl dirty looks, and glare because I impede your path. You don't realize I would give everything if I could walk, run, play and work as you do.

I'm one of millions with an invisible disability. My grandchild likens it to spoons. I have a limited number. Every task, every movement takes away one of my spoons. I count carefully, consolidate to reduce the number of trips back and forth, and curse when I've forgotten something and have to take those extra steps. And when my spoons are gone, so is what I can accomplish. Medications regulate my days. I have to be a pain in the ass when I say; I can't come, I can't do, please don't share your cold, flu, whatever. You don't know/understand that my disease is chronic and progressive. There is no cure. Eventually, it will kill me. That cold, flu, or whatever you share might be the thing that does it.

I recently spent time in a place with stairs - lots of stairs. I couldn't access food, cooking facilities, restaurants or grocery stores. I'm used to the fact that even today, with our "inclusive" society, there are places I still can't go - community centres with swimming pools, gyms, anywhere with strong scents, chemicals, smoke, or non-air conditioned buildings. But, I'm not used to nearly complete non-accessibility.

I know you see me. You just don't see my disability. That doesn't mean it doesn't exist.