Wait... Disabled?? Who's Disabled??

While I was at physical therapy yesterday, I mentioned to my PT that I drive with one hand. Having only one hand that is completely attached at this point will usually do that. She asked how I steered, and I demonstrated how I do a flat palm "Dukes of Hazzard" spin around the wheel. She shook her head and pointed out how this may not be the safest way of steering my car - and she's right, one slip and I have no contact on the steering wheel. Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Tho more likely... Lawsuit, Will Robinson! Lawsuit! So she made the suggestion of getting a steering wheel knob that I can grasp with the good hand and properly maneuver my vehicle.

"And did you get the device from Bed Bath and Beyond yet that helps you open jars?" Oh yeah, I need to pick one of those up too.

So I started looking online for proper steering wheel knobs and other "assisted living devices."

And it hit me.
Like a Mack truck.



I am disabled.



This isn't going away. None of it. The rest of my life will be spent within varying forms of disability. I was always embarrassed or ashamed after a dislocation when I was younger, but the light at the end of the tunnel was that I would grow out of it. That I would have the massive reconstruction to my knees and the pain, embarrassment, and shame would go away with it.

But it didn't.

Now before anyone attacks me for being embarrassed or ashamed of my disabilities, please keep in mind that I am not embarrassed or ashamed of others who have disabilities. Not one bit.

When I was younger, I would get teased for constantly being in and out of an immobilizer for my knees. Kids can be pretty cruel, and I tried pretty damn hard to fade into the background, to fly under the radar of the "popular kids" who had previously caused so much emotional harm. Having an "invisible" affliction is HARD. People can't SEE what's wrong with you, so they either have to ask, or just make assumptions and judge. I don't look sick.

The finger splints help as a visual marker to others that something is different. Most people assume they are jewelry, but are always amazed when they ask where I got them. I haven't had a single cruel comment about them yet. But I'm bracing for it. That scared, hurt little kid in me can't help but brace for a rock that might be coming.

I know I'm rambling, and jumping around. But when learning what the "new normal" is, it can be a bumpy road. Getting out my fears, concerns, sadness, and upset/anger are all part of the grieving process of losing the "old normal" (which oddly enough wasn't all that "normal" to begin with - but I wanted it to be). It isn't easy to admit that things are different... and aren't going back to the way they were before, no matter how badly I want them to.

My PT also recommended that I seek out a counselor to talk to. She said that coping with an invisible illness can be very stressful, especially when half of the medical community will tell you it's all in your head. I may heed her advice and look into it. I'm not very good at coping. Not by myself anyways.



In other news, saw the rheum of doom this morning. He refilled my script for more PT, and prescribed a mild antidepressant in an attempt to get my sleep pattern back on track. I am cautiously optimistic that it will help me sleep better at night. The kids also picked out a memory foam mattress topper for hubby for Christmas. We put it on last night and I woke up with the least amount of pain in my hips in months. Yay. Fingers crossed the combo of new meds and new comfort in bed will be the right cocktail for more restful sleep. See? Positive outlook at the end, in spite of myself. ;)