One of Those Days…

Nosey Bints, Parking Tickets and Frustrating Phone Calls

They say bad luck comes in threes…or is it multiples of three? 

I’m generally fairly tolerant with day-to-day annoyances and ignorant people.

As a wheelchair-user, I’m used to complete strangers who feel entitled to stare or approach me for interrogation. They tend to be so ridiculous I choose to simply laugh it off.

Don’t sweat the small stuff, right.

But there are also times when my patience is wearing thin. Some days, I’m just not in the mood!

Today is one of those days.


I attended a routine hospital appointment and parked my Motability WAV in a disabled bay, with my blue badge clearly displayed, as usual.

As I reversed out of the WAV, I heard a woman stood directly behind me shouting, “I’m just having a nosey inside!”

*Cue eye-roll* Oh, feck off, lady!

I then waited in a small room crammed full of virally infested patients for well over an hour, only to be told the nurse I was due to see went home sick hours before. Which begs the question – why not inform me of this on arrival?!

I waited a further half an hour to be seen by another nurse. At least it wasn’t a wasted journey, I guess.

Having returned to my car, I was ever-so-slightly pissed off to find a parking ticket!

As soon as I got home, I logged-on to check out the meaning of this fuckery. As I suspected – no reason for issue, no explanation and no photo evidence.

Needless to say, I wrote a strongly worded appeal. Under no circumstances will I be paying this unjustified “parking charge”. No, just no!

Shortly after, I received a phone call from the CHC (Continuing Healthcare) department who claimed to have made a personal care payment back in the summer. They didn’t.

I won’t go into details (it’s a long story!) But my battle with Continuing Healthcare has been a lengthy and stressful one, with absolutely no benefit.

Okay, putting things into perspective, this isn’t the end of the world! I’m now sat watching cartoons with my beaut of a nephew. So it aint all bad!

As I say, some days you’re just not in the mood.

Tomorrow will be kinder…we hope!

Anyone got any rum??

Disability & Self Worth | You are not unloveable

I think most people living with a chronic illness, disability or mental health issue can relate to this quote, at least to some extent. I know I do.

I am limited by my physical disability (congenital muscular dystrophy), despite the claims by some that you can do anything if you just try hard enough. As a non-ambulatory wheelchair-user with a muscle-wasting condition, I’m afraid there are certain things I cannot do.

I am heavily reliant on others to carry out daily activities such as cooking, cleaning, locking doors, opening and closing windows and so on. I also need help with personal care tasks like getting in and out of bed, dressing and bathing. This can be undignified, thus affecting my confidence and making me feel incredibly self-conscious and utterly undesirable. After all, who wants their boyfriend to shower them?!

I HATE asking people to do things for me, as I then feel a burden, a nuisance, an annoyance. Having to ask people to simply open a bottle or a can at the grand old age of 30 is frankly embarrassing (for me).

Sometimes I refuse to speak up and request help. Call it pride or sheer stubbornness. But there are other times I have no choice. Like it or not, I have to ask, to instruct, to explain.

For the most part, I’ve managed to conceal the extent of my disability from those around me. Many people, friends included, think I am much more able and independent than I actually am. Again, put it down to pride. But there are some people I can’t hide this from. Family members, of course, but also anyone I am romantically involved with.

Due to the nature of my disability and all the added extras – care requirements, dependency, restrictions, the inability to be spontaneous – I always believed myself to be undeserving of love. I genuinely thought *think* of myself as an unnecessary burden. Why would anyone put up with me, my weak, crooked body and all of my baggage when they could choose to be with someone else?

As a result of this and a lifetime of rejection, I put up barriers and distanced myself from society; a form of self preservation. Being told repeatedly that I’m not good enough, I’m “no one’s type”, and “too much to take on” has made quite a negative impression on my self-esteem.

Now, I don’t want to ramble or get too personal. But I am slowly starting to trust and believe I am worthy of love and companionship.

They say there’s someone for everyone. The cynical part of me still questions this. But maybe, just maybe, there is.

It takes an extra special person to accept me and my care needs. To take on, without question, a pretty drastic lifestyle change. To see past the wheelchair, the crooked body, the medical equipment and the disability itself, and simply love me for me, unconditionally. To try to convince me every day that I’m not undesirable, unloveable or a burden. People like this are rare, but they are out there!