Ring,
ring, cellphone … “Is this Ms. Scott?” This time from my local
tourist company that offers historical Trolley rides.
Me: Are your trolley's wheelchair accessible?
Her: There are a couple of steps up into the trolley.[Insert drum roll and
cymbal.]
Later, the same week:
“Hello,
is this Ms. Scott?”
“Yes,
oh Hi Ms. Jones!” (Not her real name.)
After
the chat about how we were both fine & good;
“I'm
sorry to tell you that State Agency Rehab can't help you with the
power chair carrier for your vehicle because of it's age and
mileage.”
I
asked since it still runs fine, couldn't we install it and if I get a
newer vehicle down the road I could just transfer the carrier also?
She sounded adamant that it couldn't be done like that. She didn't
have any further information to offer at the time but they tell me I
should volunteer somewhere so I can gain more professional
experience. But I made it clear I would need my chair for mobility
to look for employment or a volunteer gig.
So I called our local
public transportation company about taking the pic for an ID I would
need for their vans for wheelchair users. Their camera was down for
two weeks after the holidays and they only take pictures two days out
of the week. Hopefully I can get it next week.
This is on my
“to call” list:
http://www.mobilityworks.com/financing/grant-assistance/southcarolina.php
Maybe
I should put my physical needs, like exercise and eating right before
all the looking around for work? I've had to be brutally honest with
myself about how much I can do physically in a day. It's a new concept to me called self-care.
I follow a
Facebook site called Writing about Writing and found this lovely
book:
Like
how Dorothea uses the word stimulated instead of inspired. She suggests
getting up 30 minutes earlier than usual and before you do anything,
go straight to writing. Don't read anything or talk or even make
coffee. Do it for at least 30 mins. A few chapters later she
instructs: pick a good time for every day to sit down and write.
It'll be your time to write every day. Don't let anything get in the
way. Write for another 30 minutes and then begin to write a few more
sentences , then a few more paragraphs.
In Chapter 5 she has this
little ditty: Writing calls on unused muscles and involves solitude
and immobility. I need to use unused muscles, have quite a bit of
solitude and immobility and TaDa! Here I am.
This following site is
chock-full of people in the Disability community and their projects and when I last
checked are upgrading their site.
I'm an aspiring
writer/artist. I've been so stimulated by 93 year old Iris Apfel in
the way she used her intuition to feel out what
kind of interior decoration or fashion she needed for her clients or
herself. Check out Netflix, “Iris”.
Some
other books and movies that taught while entertaining me lately are:
Helene Hanff, “Q's Legacy”. You know, well maybe you don't, the
author of “84 Charing Cross Road”? Of course you do! Well, you
should.
“The
Never-Ending Story” a film with the following timely dialogue
between the boy hero and a vicious stalking wolf:
“Brave
warrior, then fight the nothing.
But
I can't! I can't get beyond the boundaries of Fantasia!
Fantasia
has no boundaries.
That's
not true, you're lying!
Foolish
boy, don't you know anything about Fantasia?
It's
the world of human fantasy. Every part, every creature of it is a
piece of the dreams and hopes of mankind. Therefore, it has no
boundaries.
But
why is Fantasia dying then?
Because
people have begun to lose their hopes and forget their dreams. So the
nothing grows stronger.
What
is the nothing?
It's
an emptiness that's left, it's a kind of despair destroying this
world”
************************************************************
I
wasn't expecting it, but had some despairing non-fiction drama myself this
past month. Our relationship flew apart. Demolition. Kaboom. It's a
process that may heal with time, but for now there's no contact. I'm
sharing this because I'm blogging about my life. I'm flying by the
seat of my pants both in wondering if and how the relationship can
be healed and how to write about it. I write about it in some of my
private morning musings. It helps to sort out confusion and
trace sources of bitterness.
This
was another early morning exercise. How someone might see me coming
out my door;
Someone
looking at me would see I'm dependent on the rollerator and I look
like I'm focused on my movements, I'm a slightly heavy older woman.
With short light brown hair going silver. I'm light skinned, today
I'm wearing dark tan pants, a blue Scandinavian patterned sweater,
and a black felt jacket. People see me lumber down the long wooden
ramp with my left hand on the handrail and perch at the end . They
don't see internal teetering for balance. They might gather that I'm
weak or invalid. I'm weak for what I used to be, but not invalid.
Then I'd be lying in bed. I hate the word invalid. In-valid.
Someone
might gather about my character and background that I'm determined to
go somewhere, that it must take a lot of energy to walk. I may make them glad they can walk freely. I can be
seen doing this daily most of the time, sometimes 2 times a day. They
may think I'm a quiet person or stuck up because I concentrate so
hard to balance I can't raise my hand to wave or look up to say
hello. I have to watch where my feet are going. They may feel sorry
for me or nothing at all. I'm pretty ordinary looking. I'm coming out of a dowdy period. If they were close enough, they'd see I have an orange
multi-strand necklace on with hammered silver rings, earrings and
orange fingernails. Also a bright blue and red fleece scarf wrapped
around my neck for the cold. They might see the old store beside my
car and think I had something to do with that at one time. (I did)
They may think something about the old trailer that's had some new
remodeling. They may think I must be pretty poor to be living here.
I'm not financially independent, but emotionally I am better than I
used to be.
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