One of my transplant friends had this article posted to her social media page.
I actually really like it & think it makes so much sense. It also explains the damage that ableism does in really succinct & practical ways.
It’s by no means a complete list, but certainly is a relatable one.
Disclaimer: “This is a sponsored post for Self Care Catalysts. I have been compensated through the Chronic Illness Bloggers network. All thoughts & opinions remain my own and I was in no way influenced by the company. Join the Selfcare Movement here.
(This particular letter is not based on any one instance or experience but an amalgam of many different reactions & past experiences as well as stories shared with me by other people with lung disease & those that love them. Some of my response in the letter below is also based on things others wished they would have been able to say to other people when they had a less than pleasant experience.)
I would be equally upset by this regardless of party affiliation or candidate who mailed this out. My thoughts on the matter some may disagree with, but I don’t speak for anyone as a populace, I speak only for myself. Today is where I found a clear example of where the “poster child” mentality goes too far afield & awry. Continue reading
Let me just say I don’t consider Shrug to be a legit news source or Radar Online, who they quote.
I’m using this article to prove a larger point about how the media treats & views disabilities & illness in America. Continue reading
My last appointment had some nice moments. I ran into a few people from an online lung transplant support group I was invited to join awhile ago. I appreciated that because I did get a few minutes to shoot the breeze in between & meet up again with people who I have been communicating with.
Some of the other respiratory & pulmonary staff are getting to know me now because they remember me from prior visits or my evaluation tests so that also helps me feel more at ease. I don’t just feel like a number within this big hospital like I did for quite awhile.
My doctor was running late so my bestie and I were out in the waiting room since there wasn’t a free room to wait in after they took my vital signs. That’s when the “not-so-nice moment” happened.
My post yesterday about what happened in my ShopRite, a comment by a blogger friend, & discussions with my disability friends about the #SoInspired hashtag on Twitter last week brought back more memories of unwanted “assistance.”
These incidents happened when my illnesses were still invisible (for the most part). Yet it triggers feelings that are just as strong as the reaction I had to a stranger invading my space.
I had a bit of an annoying run-in recently at my community center. I was checking in & since there were a few people in line, I had moved to the farther counter to do so. This older person comes right up behind me, with no regard to space, almost knocking over my oxygen machine to check in as I was trying to. I kind of muttered “personal space much” as I walked away to hang up my coat. He proceeded to follow closely but I think took a hint for a minute since he was on the other end of the coat rack. I then walked into the equipment room.
So there was one thing that happened in my October car accident that I hadn’t talked about before now because it made me extremely mad for quite awhile, actually.
I know posting this in the wee hours of the morning may not be my brightest move but I really felt compelled to.
If the every day person isn’t aware by now of the damage that ableism (discrimination or social prejudice towards people with disabilities) does, let me be the one to to shine a light on it for you.
(I also discussed this subject back on 11/10 in reaction to coverage of a news report)
This is an issue I continue to struggle with even having discourse about. How much of my reality/health status do I discuss with my employer & or colleagues? Do I disclose anything & when? If I’m looking for a job when do I bring the subject up? I came across this article. That’s what triggered these thoughts; even now, when I’m not working, because I remember those days all too well. They weren’t that long ago.