I would hope after reading that title most of my readers are
thinking: well obviously!
Then why is it that 85% of the time I am out and about I get
mistaken to be some other person in a wheelchair? Over the years I have been Al’s
long lost friend from elementary school; I was also once Nina’s cousin twice
removed; let’s not forget the time I was the girl Bob went to college with, the
one he saw once in the dining hall, and now he wanted to say “how’ve you been?
Where’s your caretaker? Didn’t you have a helper dog?” No I didn’t have a caretaker and though I wish I had a dog, I didn’t
have a “helper dog” either.
Let’s just clear up any confusion right now: My wheelchair does not mean I am that other
person who is also in a wheelchair. As awesome as my wheelchair is with all its
tricks and gizmos, technology has yet to allow for a complete identity
transformation; we’re not at the point where once your butt touches the seat –
you magically turn into some other person. POOF!
VOILA! How cool would it be to be a super-genius like Stephen Hawking
for a day? Or maybe experience what crossing the finish line is like for Rick Hoyt? I wish that could happen. And for the millionth time - Artie from Glee is not actually in a wheelchair... y'know like in real life...
Since beginning this blog I have met (in person!) five others with O.I. Four of them have the same type
as me and also use wheelchairs, and of those four – three are young women all
around the same age. We get mixed up all the time! None of us have the
same skin color, we have different color hair, and our wheelchairs are fairly
different as well. We attended an event recently and within that three hour
time period I must have been mistaken for C, D, or K at least once.
The experience is fairly amusing for me as a ‘newbie’ in the
O.I. world. For just about all of my life I was the only person with O.I., and
now I am being mistaken for three others! I honestly didn’t think that day
would ever come.
But all chuckles aside – the point of this entry is to
remind all of us that the wheelchair is not an identity marker. It’s not an
accessory that we put on to show allegiance with a group – like athletes don
team jerseys. Our wheelchairs are mobility devices, and it’s the person that
makes the wheels go round.
