It's how I roll.

The leaves cling to the tree in autumn desperately as wind, cold and dark drag on them relentlessly. I am not so as I feel my grasp slipping, I am not desperate I just want to see how long I can hold on. I can see the Grim Reaper grinning at me with his capped teeth he paid for with the souls he collects. He’s got one gold tooth, that’s for the God he brought back to earth. He casts his gaze of sympathy, no empathy he collects he is no payee. Odd is it not that a hallow eye socket can cast sympathy, maybe it is his intonation or his accent when he doesn’t speak. Yeah, it doesn’t make sense to me either.

I got a wheelchair from someone at work. It is interesting the stigma of the wheelchair. I bruised my femur down by my knee, so I’m not to be on it for about 4 more weeks. I was on crutches but it’s taking its toll on my other parts, some of which have their own issues. So I get the wheelchair and it’s awesome, but people turn their expressions to pity. I’m not dying I just went from crutches to a wheelchair, it’s not like I went from the hospital to hospice. And then when I try and do everything for myself, every one insists on opening the door for me. I am happy because it easier but it’s not like I couldn’t do it. I understand it’s hard to watch someone struggle to pull a door open when that person is in a wheelchair but I kind of want to do it myself. In order to get better at this I feel like I need to start a “Fight Club” with a door. I will say to the door as I try and pull it open in the basement: Do you know what the first rule of Fight Club is?

Anyways I wouldn’t take back my femur being bruised and me being in a wheelchair or on crutches. I have gained incredible insight on people who are disabled and what they have to go through their entire lives. I am quite impressed at their perseverance. I feel I am a mere tourist in the land of the disabled and I have noticed quite a lot: door ways are too narrow, desks are too low, desks are too high, paper towels are too far from the sink, there are plenty of doors without the automatic button to open them, stairs where did they all come from, people are nice (sometimes), wheelchair beats crutches, people mean well but stare or pity you if they think you have it worse than them…well jokes on them, no matter if I am on crutches or in my wheelchair I cannot carry an open beverage hot or cold or coffee or scotch. You do need help and my wife is an angel, a sassy feisty sexy angel, the love of my life and the bringer of my beer while I cannot bring it to myself.