The Mythical *Pass* for Differently-Abled People

[SuperFemme]

Originally Posted by DamonK

First part, in reference to grieving:

It may sound odd, and I'll explain why in a moment, but I am 28 and at times I still grieve for what I don't have.

Hmm, funny that. I've been this way since birth. It's...awkward...to grieve for something that is the ONLY thing you've ever known. I don't know what it's like to see with two eyes, or to suddenly jump in a swimming pool on a whim. I don't know a world without checking my pockets before work, "Do I have hearing aid batteries?" In fact, last week, without thinking about it, I took 2 packs to work! I don't know a world where, in some instances, I politely nod, and read lips to finish a conversation, or a sentence, then say, "Could you please excuse me a moment?" then turn, and quickly change batteries, because my hearing aid is beeping at me and driving me batty, saying "Change me change me."

It's possessed. I swear it is.

Point is, I don't know another world, but these thoughts are what I have everyday, and situations I find myself in fairly often. Simple facts of my life.

Which leads me to point two:

I do NOT consider myself a victim.

I consider myself lucky.

You see, back then, with my situations... I shouldn't be alive today. My mom, around my birthday, calls me, crying, every year, still amazed and thankful that I pulled through -- 28 years later. And every year, there's one story she tells me. It's a story of grief, and resignation. But it's a reminder that miracles do exist. And I'll even share it.

My doctor's name was Dr. McGee. He was my doctor until I was about 7 I think. I don't know. I still remember sometimes he'd look at me with wonder on his face. Back then I didn't understand why. Now I do. Not long after my birth, Doc went to my mom's hospital room, crying. Doc was in street clothes, off duty... He told Mom how sorry he was and how he didn't think I'd make it through the night. I'd taken a bad downhill turn.

That is the only part of the story I remember. It connects the dots for me what I had to fight through to make it.

For me, at least, one thought crosses my head? How can I consider myself a victim when I know how lucky I am to be alive?

Then the annoyance over batteries seems quite insignificant when I remember....

I love this post! I have to tell you that I evolved from being angry that a drunk driver "stole my life" and feeling sorry for myself to "This accident was a gift".

I am still here! Against all odds. I am no longer working 60 - 80 hour work weeks. I am enjoying my children 24 hours a day and they are not in daycare/school for 10 - 12 hours a day. So much to thankful for, that it makes me mad to be called a victim.

I may have wallowed in self pity for a while, but no. I am not a victim.

At the end of the day, there are a lot of gifts. Kind of like your batteries needing changing. You are here to change them! How amazing is that given that you were given such a grim prognosis.

Oh, and about grieving something you've never had. Absolutely. That makes perfect sense to me.

Have you ever had anyone call you a victim? If so, how do you (or how would) you deal with that?