No, not the gang. Would be different; but no not the gang.
I'm talking the disabled, the permanently kevved up, physically impaired, limited person I have become. Crip as in crippled. As in "get the fuck out of my way, you fat,worthless piece of shit!" Crip as in the treasured handicapped parking placard and the eye rolling ridicule encountered when exiting my vehicle. Crip as in beginning every single day contemplating the amount of agony I can endure simply moving to the bathroom. Crip as in forcing myself to hobble to my precious Ancient Vehicle and driving to the Big Box pharmacy to renew two of the medications that enable me to finish another grimacing day.
Crip meaning going without the warmth of sox because I can no longer slide them on my right foot. The leg just doesn't bend that far. Should I mention the torture of crippled toe nail cutting? Chair sitting is also challenging for my crip self. Now I know why pillows are always piled up on the couches of old folks. Describe the pain? Why bother?
There is a well intentioned gentleman here at Elder House. I think I've become sort of a mission for him. He's always trying to figure out a new method for me to walk like a regular human. He gave me an aluminum walker that I cannot figure out. It's too narrow and too short and I can't use it to pull up my pants like I can use my canes. I thanked him profusely of course and told him how much I appreciate his concern. Because I do. I really do. His latest crusade is to attach something sturdy (crutches?) to my wheeled laundry cart so it doesn't take me so long navigating the hall with a load of stinky clothes. Yikes! I will beg him to stop trying to gadgetize me.
I'm a Crip. I hate it. I accept it. And now I've got to go out in the rain. Skip the puddles.
I'm talking the disabled, the permanently kevved up, physically impaired, limited person I have become. Crip as in crippled. As in "get the fuck out of my way, you fat,worthless piece of shit!" Crip as in the treasured handicapped parking placard and the eye rolling ridicule encountered when exiting my vehicle. Crip as in beginning every single day contemplating the amount of agony I can endure simply moving to the bathroom. Crip as in forcing myself to hobble to my precious Ancient Vehicle and driving to the Big Box pharmacy to renew two of the medications that enable me to finish another grimacing day.
Crip meaning going without the warmth of sox because I can no longer slide them on my right foot. The leg just doesn't bend that far. Should I mention the torture of crippled toe nail cutting? Chair sitting is also challenging for my crip self. Now I know why pillows are always piled up on the couches of old folks. Describe the pain? Why bother?
There is a well intentioned gentleman here at Elder House. I think I've become sort of a mission for him. He's always trying to figure out a new method for me to walk like a regular human. He gave me an aluminum walker that I cannot figure out. It's too narrow and too short and I can't use it to pull up my pants like I can use my canes. I thanked him profusely of course and told him how much I appreciate his concern. Because I do. I really do. His latest crusade is to attach something sturdy (crutches?) to my wheeled laundry cart so it doesn't take me so long navigating the hall with a load of stinky clothes. Yikes! I will beg him to stop trying to gadgetize me.
I'm a Crip. I hate it. I accept it. And now I've got to go out in the rain. Skip the puddles.
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