Invalid

I have been getting around these days outside my home (if i have to to go out) with the aid of a wheelchair*. Actually, during my last pregnancy with Cheenee, we were strolling the vast lands of Disneyland in Hong Kong, with me riding on a wheelchair, Jethro sitting on my lap, and Henry panting and sweating as the three, rather four, because i was heavy with Cheenee then, of us get around HK disneyland. It was the scariest out-of-the-country travel for us. I had low-lying placenta, ergo was having a delicate pregnancy. I had no choice, i had to. We actually visited HK primarily due to medical reasons.

With my current pregnancy, i have low-lying placenta, thus, i get around with the help of a wheelchair. Well, during my pregnancy with Cheenee, I had the same low-lying placenta condition as well. Ob-gyne advised: no long walks, no long travels, no physical stress, take more rests. I have two growing kids (and one growing belly!) and no matter how tiring it is on Sundays for me to go to the mall and watch them stomp, play, run around the mall's activity play area, i have to endure it. Minsan lang silang maging bata. I honestly do not want to miss all the fun they are having. Riding on a wheelchair does the trick (as Henry insisted). 

In Gattaca flick's term, I am invalid. In our social setting, I have disability. And if i am a child, i am a special child.

Disability is a lack of ability relative to a personal or group standard or norm. In reality there is often simply a spectrum of ability. Disability may involve physical impairment, sensory impairment, cognitive or intellectual impairment, mental disorder (also known as psychiatric or psychosocial disability), or various types of chronic disease. A disability may occur during a person's lifetime or may be present from birth.

 

Riding on a wheelchair has given me a first-hand view how it is to be a person with disability. And to be honest, even if i had not ridden on a wheelchair for the past months, i actually KNOW how it is to be disable. When we went to SM MOA, I would tell Henry how masa people would look at me with indifference. Later that day, at S and R, there were also the expats, educated and upper-middle class whom when i locked gazes with, gave me the most genuine smile or some form of regard. Henry, being so proud of Cheenee,  would simply think that people look at me because i have a cute little girl sitting on my lap. I explained to Henry that these people aren't actually looking at our little girl admiring her cuteness. Because what usually happens, especially to those who'd look at me with indifference, would look at me, shift the stare at Henry and look at me again (I half-jokingly told henry, "Isip nila true love talaga, nain-love ang pogi sa naka-wheelchair". I know the stare of empathy.  I know the look of pity. I know the gaze of indifference. Masa people would look at me with indifference (and tinge of noseyness?), rarely pity. Expats, upper-middle class and higher economic bracket people would look at me with empathy.

But then again, I  may be over-generalizing. We have come across people whom we even painstakingly tried to make understand what disability is, and yet all they  manage to throw was the most insensitive, indifferent response behind your back (or even slap your face with it). To put it simply, the rare times you socialize with these mask-wearing insensitive people will tell you nothing. What they say and do behind your back is everything. From their end, a little consideration and tolerance will go a long way (i don't have to expound on this, i am assuming that genuinely educated and well-bred people should know what i am talking about.)

I have proven an innocent child's unconditional love to his/her parents many times. In my case, no matter how i come in different form and uh, wheels i will get the same unconditional love from my kids. If i will be a paraplegic-wheelchair- riding-person-after-a-stroke, I already know the feeling of having understanding and loving people around me. I was greatly touched because despite being temporarily disabled, Cheenee gave me the best regard of all. One Sunday when when we met-up with Henry's parents, Cheenee spontaneously uttered "Mommy sits on a wheelchair because mommy has ouchy tummy!" Then she crawled up to me, and said , "Sitit mommy! (Sit with mommy). She would spurt out once in a while "This is my mommy!" She is utterly very proud of me. Her pride on having me as her mom didn't dwindle. Not even one bit.

When we went home, i was teary-eyed as i recounted this incident to Henry (he was busy talking to an uncle to pay attention to what Cheenee was saying earlier that day). It was honestly very touching how a "disable" parent can get such unconditional love from an innocent child: completely no discrimination, no embarrassment to have a disabled parent. Cheenee was 27 months old then. 

We are showering our kids with unconditional love all these years- with special mention to our eldest. And i know we are teaching them as well how to treat other people with respect and unconditional love. 

In our case, no matter how we have proven that it is futile to get the message across to (disrespectful and arrogant) people in order to understand how it is to have special needs (or in simpler words, to recognize one's need for a little understanding or broader mind), we can still offer unconditional love to these people, that in the event they will be walking in our shoes, we will be still be the first people to empathize with them. 

This is genuine unconditional love. 

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A reaction to Jenny Mc Carthy, a writer, a mother with a special child, during her Oprah guesting by one observer:

"I saw this book being promoted on Oprah, and was shocked by hysterical behavior, flawed arguments and the "know-it-all" attitude of the Jenny......I think this woman needs quite a lot of serious psychotherapy herself, because she obviously cannot cope with her son's condition and keep her common sense, let alone write a sensible book... 

And a reaction by another observer to this critique's observation:

Consider yourself fortunate for not having a  special child. Walk in a mother's  shoes with a special child for one day and we will see how composed you can be.

 

 

I CONCUR.

 

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*I actually have an aunt and two kumares who were also bedridden (as in NOT advised to stand-up or sit up by all means for longer than 5minutes by the obgyne)-  that's all through-out their pregnancies. Other people would help them bathe- lying down on the bed.  Come to think of it, i seriously consider myself lucky, i only have to use the wheelchair in order get around in public places.

*Jackie, wife of Gen Lomibao was advised NOT to walk even when going to the toilet at home after one incident of blood-spotting. She had to use the wheelchair when going to her six-steps-away toilet just located inside their bedroom.

 

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My blog FAN: I know how you have been my biggest fan. "Imitation" is the best flattery (well you know the 'things' you imitated and 'gained' by reading my entries). Please, stop your paranoia. i am never blogging about you. Please stop visiting my blog. We hope that you genuinely MOVE ON.  I have always spoken in a very generalized manner and no one should have taken my blogs PERSONALLY to begin with. I have long been blogging even before you, and i was blogging with no malice, not until you put malice in everything i do/write. One more provocation, we are seriously considering some serious talk. Genuinely put an end to this.

I've sitemeter all these years by the way *wink*.