Featured Post

Top things to not say to a brain tumor patient...

So over the past few months I have experienced some pretty dismissing comments. I'm actually amazed that people would say these things ...

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

The Whole in my Bucket

"There's a hole in my bucket dear Liza, dear Liza. There's a hole in my bucket, dear Liza a hole."



The plan God has given for our lives offers many calls and responsibilities; some daily, some life endeavors. These calls for family focused work, proselytizing, avoiding temptations, correcting mistakes, etc. While each is a worthy call and requires our attention, it's overwhelming. Sometimes I am happy just making it through the day. Now it takes me even longer to attempt any of these tasks.

I have found that by using the opportunity to serve while I can, help when able, and not do more than I am capable of, this giant hole in my life seems less daunting to face. I can still help, I am still in here somewhere.

This is my first experience with any challenge of this magnitude. I have found one truth: people either are afraid to address your injury/illness or don't know how to separate you from the injury. This results in not being asked for help, or being asked to help in ways in which you are not capable. Both of which can leave a person feeling less than. No slight is intended but really, given the pain and sometimes medications people are on, there is not much ability to think past the initial "ouch" of exclusion. Here are my rules of engagement:


1. Don't pretend I'm not here. Any person with an obvious physical disability does not want you to pretend its not there. Don't avert your eyes. Don't pretend you can't see us, just don't only see the walker/wheelchair. Use the social skills you learned for any other person, look us in the eye, shake hands or hug as appropriate, ask us if we caught the new Marvel movie.

2. Use your words. If the injury is something that you fear may cause pain if we talk or hug or whatever, ask. We understand our limits and can tell you what limits we need. If you forget, because you are busy and have a million other things, ask again. We will not become offended, honestly we have so many things going on, we probably forgot we already told you.

3. Don't drag your kid away. I have had kids curious, fascinated, and confused by my walker. I have also had them dragged away by well meaning parents whispering harshly "don't stare", "that's rude" or other varieties in like manner. Congratulations for creating a fear response in your child when it was unnecessary. Instead try this, ask if its ok for your kid to ask questions. Then stay close to help them understand anything that may be confusing. Kids grasp things so much more easily than adults, I would love to see kids able to look past physical assist tools rather than be afraid of them.

4. Ask me how I can serve and help. I want to serve. I want to be included.  I can't make a full meal, but I can bake brownies. I can't knock on doors but with time and planning can make phone calls or send emails.

Its simple, its basic. I am a whole person, not just a disability. It's ok to treat me like a whole person, because I am. I am all here. Me with a walker right now, that is whole for me. If I continue to need other assistance, yup still me. If my status deteriorates and I need more tools such as a wheelchair, you guessed it, still me.

We are each of us whole. Sometimes we have a hole in our bucket, but we are still a bucket. Holes do not change our bucket status. My disability does not make me less than, I'm just different than, learning new things. stick around and you might just learn something too.

1 comment: