Does anyone remember Pimp My Ride?
Well, when I was in my first year of university, some of my classmates decided I needed to ‘Pimp My Wheelchair’. So they got me reflective plates and neon beads to put in my wheels. They made the most annoying rattling noise. I also got an old-fashioned horn so I could scare the shit out of anyone who was in my way. I don’t know what make me think of this and why I’m sharing, but it made me smile.
I’m often remembered, recognised or referred to as ‘that girl in the wheelchair’, but I don’t mind. I’d rather be recognised and remembered like that, than not at all.
A Vantage Point of Asses, chapter 1
This is not necessarily the final version of the first chapter but It should give you an indication of my writing:
Since I’m having an honest -share personal things with you- day, let me tell you about my disability.
Some of you know this, others don’t: I’m physically disabled.
I was born on September 30th, 1987, a full 12 weeks before I was supposed to be born. Premature birth was more common in the 80s for children born out of IVF.
My lungs were barely fully developed as I was still very small so I was ventilated. At some point on my first day, my lung collapsed and the pressure on my brain increased, causing me to have a hemorrhage, which did some serious damage.
I have, since that day, had cerebral palsy. For me, this means a left sided spasm (the entire left side of my body is affected) and even some traces of it in the right side of my body (like fine motor-function). Most people, when they think of spasm, think of involuntary flailing of limbs. This is not the case for me, but there is constant tension in my body and I can’t control the movements I make as precisely as I want.
So I walk funny. As a child there was never much of a problem with energy, but by the time I was sixteen, I needed a wheelchair for long distance trips. Now, when I walk, it’s with a walker. Getting older - and lack of exercise of those muscles that I can’t use - has made things a lot worse. I can’t walk without my orthopedic shoes without holding on to something anymore. My energy is drained MUCH faster than it used to be.
Still, I live in my own house, by myself. I have a part-time job (that I’ve had for three years) and a creative outlet. I’m not always happy, but I try to be.