Over the years I have come to terms with the fact that everybody has some sort of problems or things they would rather not do, ETC. This is despite the fact that I have said numerous times over the course of my 36 years that I don’t have any. If the last 16 or so years have taught anybody anything about, it’s that I do indeed have problems. This was made apparent by the fact that for a period starting in my late teenage years until about my mid 20’s, everything was a problem and the biggest challenge anybody faced was trying to get me to be happy and to see that my life was not so bad. For a while it seemed like I was incapable of being happy as far as anybody close to me was concerned and that the few times I was, it was basically considered a privilege for me not to go off for no apparent reason and actually live my life properly. Now there was a point in my life where anything anybody could think of made me mad but as I got older, I slowly started the long road back towards some level of decency. Having said that, there were still some things that bothered me. Once I moved out on my own, my health started becoming a minor concern, (though this was nothing life threatening,) and this was extend to my mental health as well. As most people should be aware of from having read my past entries, at the age of 28, I had my first job in the government where I did data entry. Now this gave me a decent chance to revert back to crazy state and I probably would have if mom did not pull the trigger on me quitting when she did. There was however something I hated even more than my job and this was anything in regards to my health which required doctors being involved and even afforded me some time in the hospital. Once again I will say that my problems were not life threatening. There was a point in my life where doctors would schedule me for appointments only for me to not want to take them even when mom said she would be there with me. To make a long story short, it got so bad that I called the doctor, (I think this was physio as I was being fitted for braces which I didn’t like due to them being too tight,) and threatened police involvement if he kept calling after numerous requests that he stop. I know at one point during my involvement with this doctor, I broke down crying over not wanting to attend one of his appointments only to be reassured by one of my staff where I lived that they were there to help me. Since then I have learned to appreciate the health care system a little more knowing that if they weren’t there, a lot of people would be sick. Having said that, I still find them annoying to deal with and one thing that hasn’t changed is my dislike for hospitals. I hate them. What has changed though is the reason why I hate them. It used to be because I was afraid of dying under their watch but now it’s more because they take too long. You have to wait there. There’s sick people there. They cough and sneeze on you. They complain. It doesn’t smell the greatest and there’s just an overall sense that I would rather be anywhere else. These days when the need for me to be near a doctor or a hospital is necessary, it has to be done at a time when mom can go with me. Often times, she will not attend the appointment with me but will try to be present over the phone as the appointment is taking place. Now I should mention in saying this that the setup would only work if I’m in a doctor’s office and not the hospital. Under no circumstances should I be in the hospital without mom accompanying me because I will not go in willingly. Now you may be asking yourselves at this point how this is relevant. Well, can anybody take a guess what’s about to happen today? Does anybody know where I’m going in a few hours? I’m going to the hospital for a bladder examination….WITHOUT MOM! At this time, she is on a trip out of town so she cannot accompany me. Since she’s the one who books these appointments, it leads me to wonder why she would book an appointment of this magnitude when she is unable to come with me. While I don’t have an answer for this, I have a pretty good idea of the overall cause of this situation occurring.

For those of you who don’t know me or haven’t read my previous posts which discuss this, I’m a disabled person. I use a wheelchair to get around and travel with Para Transpo. The thing is that even though this is the case, I would say I’m much better off than at least some people I know or have known over the course of my life with a disability. I can do a lot more on my own than most people in my condition and I can honestly say that most people are jealous of me. However, I’ve heard a lot of different people over the course of my life who hate their disability because they either were currently being treated differently because of it or had fears of one day being subjected to ridicule over it. Most of them felt like they couldn’t function in society and had dreams of being able to be like any able bodied person, (I knew most of these people as a kid.) In one case, maybe more I have heard people say that they hate the words handicapped and disability as they feel it’s a put down. Well the way I see it is that I refuse to be one of those people who sits there and complains about things they can’t change but rather I like to embrace it. I’ve always felt that you can never argue with the truth. If you were meant to be disabled, then you should accept it because the reality is that you cannot change it and maybe I’m wrong in assuming this but at least I don’t feel offended when people say I’m disabled whether they mean it as a put down or not. In saying this, their just stating facts. At least from where I sit, their not being rude at all.

The biggest challenge I’ve faced over the years is pretty much getting people to embrace the fact that I am disabled to some extent. The biggest problem I have is that because I’m more capable than others in my situation, there’s added pressure I feel when I try to back out of doing things I’m tasked to do alone either because I’m too tired or because I feel the task is too hard for me to do because of my disability. This could be anything from going to certain places when I would rather be at home or socializing with people where I live to attending doctor’s appointments, ETC. Objections towards doing any of these things among other things usually will force mom to label me as lazy. So apparently being a disabled person who has some ability to be independent means that I can never have my own time and that I basically have to shove myself down people’s throats by engaging them in conversation as well as being forced to eat with them, ETC all just to avoid being called lazy. I don’t agree with this at all.

My best friend’s wife is the worst at complaining about her disability. All she does is say, “I can’t do this, I can’t do that,” while blaming her inability to do certain things on her disability. She has been known to be very critical of my complaints about my own disability. We both want each other’s disability. I wish I could be more like her while she wishes she could be more like me. I will say that one of the things she cannot do is attend doctor’s appointments without her parents. To put it into perspective, something like what is occurring with me today would not occur for her if her parents weren’t able to take her. However, because the world chooses to not see me as a disabled person but rather a person with physical limitations as they put it, of course, mom doesn’t need to be there even though I wish she could be. Most people with a disability have to fight to prove they can be like anybody else while I have to fight to get people to believe I have one. The thing that stresses me everybody expects me to defy the odds and do what no person in my situation should be able to do but god forbid that I try to admit that something is too hard for me or that I’m too tired for something because this just results in me being called lazy. Most people refuse to see me for who I am which is the worst part.

At the end of the day I’m a disabled person. This may be hard for people to grasp but it’s the truth.

By Jefferson Bert