Identity Theft by Debra E. Meyerson

Author:Debra E. Meyerson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Andrews McMeel Publishing
Published: 2019-05-07T02:11:53+00:00

Chapter 12.

How the World Responds

In 2016, six years after my stroke, Steve and I decided it was time for a family adventure. We found a great deal on a trip to Peru, including a four-day trek and a visit to Machu Picchu. Most friends thought we were crazy. I still walked slowly with a limp, had no function of my right arm, and needed significant stretching and warm-ups for daily life. How was I going to complete a four-day trek through the Andes going as high as fifteen thousand feet?

But I’m stubborn, and my family knew that taking a trip like this would have emotional significance for me. The local guide group used pack horses to carry gear on this trek, and Steve confirmed they could bring a saddle horse that I could ride whenever the walking was too much for me or we needed to cover ground faster than I could walk. We spent nearly a week in spectacular mountains, just our family and guides. The only other people we saw were a few locals walking the trail to bring goods to a town market. It was invigorating to be active, relaxing to bond with family, and refreshing to be in such an isolated place. The stars were as bright as I’ve ever seen. For once, I wasn’t trying to fit into the expectations of the world I couldn’t keep pace with.

After our mountain trek, along with a few thousand other travelers, we took the bus up to the famous ruins of Machu Picchu. It was gorgeous, inspiring, and crowded. We spent the whole day walking around the ruins. Toward the end of the day, I was walking down some stone steps with my walking stick in my left hand, staying near the wall to stabilize myself. A group of people who were oblivious to my efforts rushed quickly by and made it hard for me to keep my safe position. I think I elbowed one of them, half intentionally, and glared as they went by.

On the next staircase, an older man watched a similar scene developing and, with the best of intentions, reached out a helping hand. I glared at him too, and forcefully waved him away. I had just walked and ridden a horse for four days in the mountains and had been walking around the ruins all day without any problems. “I don’t need your help,” I made clear through gestures and a glare. Steve caught my arm, afraid that I was about to swing my walking stick at him.

I react that way often. I get angry when people don’t respect the needs of people with disabilities, but I also don’t want anybody’s pity or for them to assume that I can’t take care of myself. I certainly don’t want their first impression of me to be that something’s wrong and I need help. But I do sometimes need help.

Those of us with disabilities, physical or speech or otherwise, find ourselves in a world that is frankly not built or prepared for us.

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