Category: disabilities

  • Dignity? Priceless

    I am writing this from the perspective of someone who has multiple disabilities who is married to someone who also has multiple disabilities and chronic illnesses. We both receive Social Security Disability and Medicare. As a result, recent developments in health care and the budgetary process have us on the verge of panic.
    On Election Night, when it became apparent that Trump was going to win, I remarked to my wife that things were probably going to change for us in ways we couldn’t even comprehend. When I said this elsewhere, I was accused of being hyperbolic and hysterical. Now, seven months removed from that night in November, I haven’t seen anything that would prove me wrong. I could go on and on chronicling the countless ways Mr. Trump has proven himself to be unpresidential, but my focus, my main concern, is what he, and by extension the Republican Party, are trying to do with benefits for the disabled, elderly, and the poor. I have seen numerous justifications for the current proposals, ranging from budget constraints to government overreach to waste, fraud and abuse. But I believe there is an underlying feeling out there beneath all the political niceties. Nobody will speak it, unless of course Trump gets his way and “political correctness” gets thrown out the window. I have come to the conclusion that many people believe those of us with disabilities and other vulnerable populations have actually had it too good all these years, and this alleged largess has come at the expense of the average, hard-working, taxpaying American. While I can only speak for myself, I’d have to say neither my wife or me feel like we’re on anything even resembling a gravy train. We are certainly thankful for what we get, and we’re doing okay, but that’s as far as it goes. No lobster dinners for us. Our benefits give us a certain level of self-respect and, something even more important, dignity. Dignity is something you can’t put a price tag on. As the old credit card commercial used to say, it’s priceless. Shredding the safety net would put a huge damper on our dignity, not to mention millions of others. Yet for some, dignity isn’t nearly as important as supposedly balancing budgets. Try and tell the elderly lady able to live in her own home thanks to in-home support services that Medicaid cuts will force her to move to an institution that her dignity is negotiable. Try and tell the young adult with multiple disabilities who has worked their tail off and managed to move into their own apartment that they must move back in with Mom and Dad because of the budget. This is so wrong on so many levels. And I know the people in Congress know this, which is why they’re going to ridiculous extremes to avoid their constituents during legislative recesses. I don’t think the average GOP congressperson is really a cruel heartless person; they just know what side their bread is buttered on. All the same, it would be incredibly gratifying to see at least some of them actually do the right thing, even if that would mean losing some lobbyist dollars. Sadly, however, I don’t see that happening. So I’m afraid we’re stuck with the possibility of losing at least some of our benefits because we haven’t sacrificed enough. To which I call baloney. Dignity should never be negotiable or find itself subject to a budget balance sheet.

  • ABAPITA Files: Spontaneity is Not an Option

    For the benefit of those who may not know, ABAPITA is an acronym for aint blindness a pain in the, um, anatomy. Substitute any word you like beginning with A. I don’t spend much time harping on it, but there are times when my blindness is a serious impediment to my enjoyment of life. Recently it occurred to me that it might be therapeutic to write about how this might manifest itself. Because I understand not everyone will be interested in reading such personal missives, I have chosen to label these types of post with the ABAPITA title, so those who wish to skip and move on can do so. Anyway, with that explanation out of the way, here is my beef for today.

    Because of my blindness, most experiences that require leaving the house and going anywhere require at least a modicum of planning ahead. This makes spontaneity well nigh impossible. Case in point…I am very interested in seeing the movie Risen while it’s in theaters. It looks like it could be very interesting, to say the least. Unfortunately, it isn’t possible for me to wake up on a given morning and say Gosh, today’s the day I go and see the movie. It requires finding someone else who might like to go, coordinating schedules, etc., etc., etc. It takes planning at least a day ahead of time, often even more than that. And, in this example, things are more complicated by the fact that both Sarah and I would like to see it with audio description, which would require a trip to Indianapolis. This is true of any number of other examples, big and small, every day. I suspect this is a huge reason why I have grown to view spontaneity in general in a very negative light. I apologize if this comes across as so much whinage, because I promise that isn’t my intent. I’m just attempting to convey the frustration I feel from time to time. It is what it is, it will continue to be so, and I will continue to deal with it the best I can.

  • Carkey Worship?

    For the past few days I’ve been seeing a story kicking around about an individual in Detroit who walks 21 miles to work every day. First and foremost let me say, good on him! I honestly don’t know if I’d have the stamina to do something like that. But I suppose if you don’t have any other choice, as they say, you gotta do what you gotta do. I can’t help but wonder if there are similar stories like this one that haven’t been told. Taking into account the current state of the economy and the precarious financial predicament of many, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are.

    This story also brought to mind the attitude I see from a lot of people when they lose access to their car for even a little while. I’ve seen otherwise reasonable, thoughtful people turn into whimpering basket cases when they can’t actually drive. I wonder if they’re feeling the same feeling I had when I lost the speech on my iPhone for a time last month. The best way I can describe it was a creeping sense of panic deep in my gut. It showed me that, despite my best efforts, I had developed a somewhat pathological attachment to my phone. It’s my observation that some have the same pathological attachment to their carkeys. This attachment would be harmless if it didn’t color opinions about alternate transportation options such as mass transit. There are some who view having to take a city bus as a fate worse than death. After all, “those people” use mass transit—people too poor to afford a car, people who can’t get licenses for other reasons—in short, the losers of society. In many instances, if people think about mass transit at all, it’s a belief that it needs to go away. In my adult lifetime, I’ve seen several very robust transit systems in certain areas get stripped down to absolute bare bones. Meanwhile, new highway projects are pushed as optimal solutions. Not only is this shortsighted, it makes life much more difficult for those like me who actually rely on public transit as a lifeline to the community. I’m continually amazed with how so many just don’t get this. Over the years I’ve had occasion to ask advocates of cutting public transit funds what they’d say to someone like me who can’t drive and needs the service. Way too many times I’ve gotten the audible equivalent of a blank stare and the remark “well, can’t you just get someone to drive you?” I’m still trying to figure out a polite way to answer that without sarcasm. Some municipalities do get it. Portland and Phoenix’s light rail systems and the Puget Sound’s Sounder rail system come to mind. For the most part, though, dismantling is the order of the day. I live in a town with a transit system that, while it does exist, really doesn’t seem to be terribly significant. Also, there isn’t any way for me to independently get to Indianapolis, a mere 30 miles away, without spending a fortune on cab fare or inconveniencing someone else to drive me there. I’ve read that this story has prompted people to donate, at last count, $80,000 to this individual, offer free cars, etc. What I do not see is a broader discussion on what’s actually causing him to need to do this. And, so long as the car entitlement mentality holds, that conversation will probably never be had.