You, of all People, Shouldn't Judge Me

So, here we were, at the airport ready to board a plane. I had just been through a spinal neurostimulator implant. I was wearing a back brace because the surgeon told me that I needed it for a while. In my hand was an early boarding pass because I needed a certain seat on the plane.

Just before boarding began, a woman pushed herself in front of me, saying that she needed to board before me, because she had a bigger need than me. "Believe me, a little back brace is nothing compared to what I have. You wouldn't want to be me" was her exact statement. After a little banter she agreed that my condition was a little more than a back brace, but she committed to remain in front of me in line.

I was struck by the prejudice people with disabilities face on a regular basis. We are judged by how we look on the outside, and the possibility of hidden disability is dismissed as unimportant. But, I was dumbfounded by the insensitivity of this woman with a hidden disability of her own. She wanted to engage in a "pissing" contest over who's hidden disability was worse. Unbelievable!

If you have a hidden disability, you know what I am talking about, and I am certain that you have stories of your own. To you I offer this statement. I respect you, and all of your struggles. I do not need to compare notes and prove that I am better off, or worse off, than you. It is not about degree's of difficulty, but about mutual support. You struggle with your disability everyday, and you don't need to be judged by others who live under the same scrutiny.

Do you have a story where you have been unfairly judged?  Share you story with others.  Write a comment, and share your story with others.  Le't see how widespread this problem is.

It Hurts to Laugh

This last week, I took the first step toward a spinal neuro-stimulator implant, a device that blocks pain.  The trial only lasted a couple of days, but what a difference it made!  Pain was virtually eliminated whenever the machine was on.  I could walk normal, and people said that my countenance even had an improvement without pain.  There are a few drawbacks.  Not the least of which is that the stimulation increases dramatically when you  cough, sneeze, or laugh.

I will gladly make every attempt to control sneezing, and coughing.  Those activities only drive people away.  But I have decided that it is worth jolts of volts to experience the joy of laughter.  When I laugh, those around me are happier people.  When I laugh, conversation is about positive and happy things.  When I laugh, I forget life's difficulties.  Research even shows that when I laugh, I add years to my own life.

The lesson that I learn from this is that some things are worth a little pain.  Love is worth whatever pain may eventually come.  Relationships are worth occasional pain because of the growth it brings us.  But for me, laughter is worth the pain.  The benefits of the stimulator makes it worth the temporary pain that may come.  But more than this, I don't ever want to stop laughing.

So, when I say, "it hurts to laugh," I really mean it.  When they implant the permanent stimulator in me, it will hurt every time I laugh.  So what?  I guess I will give new meaning to the phrase, "I laughed until I cried."

What sacrifices are worth making to you?

When Relief is not up to Me

There are certain things that I can do for myself. Whenever possible, I accomplish those things. I need to keep moving, and I enjoy feeling productive whenever possible. There is, however, one thing that I cannot do: Motivate Insurance Companies.

A month ago, I was recommended for a neurostimulator implant to quiet the nerve impulses in my spine. This should be the final touch in solving what has been a life long problem. Since that time, the insurance company sent one letter out saying that they had received the request, and made it clear that they might or might not pay for it. What?

I continue to struggle, and they can't decide? And besides, who is that person, or group of people that can't seem to decide on my future? I cannot simply be frustrated with the insurance company. At best, there is only one person in the entire system who even knows about the request. I am just a form, in a file, in a basket, with a bunch of other files, on the corner of a desk somewhere. The employee comes in, goes to lunch, and goes home at the end of the day. Lunch and a couple of trips to the water cooler each day, a quick look at Facebook, a few emails, and a meeting fills this person's day, but my file sits neatly in the basket for some other time.

What I have learned through the years is that pain does not breed patience. Just the opposite is more true. Pain can push even the most patient person over the edge. Of course, that part is not in the file. It is my problem. Just another thing to handle while I wait for other people to decide if I will find relief or continue down this all too familiar road of pain.