Life With Chronic Pain

For instance, I have a herniated disk so I use a grab stick to pick stuff off the floor and a long shoe horn to be able to put shoes on standing up. Another is a neck fan for the summer heat. I’m a fan of anything affordable and convenient.

It also doesn’t have to be strictly physically related stuff, like using pink noise to sleep has also been an immense help in drowning out distractions because of my autism.

Sometimes using a wheelchair means you can no longer get to the places that used to be important to you, and not because of man-made inaccessibility. I have sat with someone as they cried because they could no longer visit the place they had scattered a loved one’s ashes because not even the most expensive wheelchair in the world could handle the terrain. As much as I wanted to, my wheelchair meant that I couldn’t position myself in a way that would allow me to give them a proper hug. In that moment, our wheelchairs felt more like heavy weights than freedom.

And sometimes wheelchairs are like the legs of someone who can walk but would maybe benefit from a wheelchair themselves. Sometimes wheelchairs are exhausting and painful and you’re counting down the time before you’re able to be lifted into bed. Sure, like painful legs, you can do more with them than without, but constantly performing gratitude for something that hurts you is exhausting. And again, not because you need a better wheelchair, but because those are the limits of your body and the technology that exists.

A couple I was helping earlier had two little ones, three and six, who were behaving in a rather saintly fashion for the average bored kid I see. I tried to engage them with remotes and things while their parents talked.

Eventually they were restless enough that I pulled out notepads and asked if they wanted to draw. The three year old quickly lost interest and I went over to ask her favorite animal. She told me “elephant” so to delight and amaze her I started drawing an elephant. Usually kids are into it.

When I was done she pronounced, “It looks like a giraffe.”

I staggered back melodramatically but actually laughing hysterically and said, “There goes my art degree!”

The parents laughed and said kids were harsh critics. When they checked out they saw my elephant doodle on the desk and both did a double take like, “Woah, that’s a really good elephant!”

Whereas the reality is far more like