I recently joined a new (to me) disabled veteran’s organization, and received an issue of their quarterly magazine in the mail last week. As I probably should have seen coming, the magazine is full of disabled veterans. There are pictures of disabled vets in wheelchairs involved in a variety of sports, there are pictures of vets in wheelchairs working at different jobs, or lobbying to change or update laws regarding people with disabilities. There’s even advertising geared towards the handicapped with ads for adaptive clothing, exercise gear, and wheelchair accessories, some of which, I have to admit, are pretty cool. Still, something about getting a disabled magazine was bothersome; no…. depressing really.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not as though I was unaware I was disabled until this magazine brought it to my attention. I may be far too grumpy to be one of the smiling people in the pictures, but I am very aware that I also use a wheelchair. I actually have 3 wheelchairs to be aware of; my primary, power chair, a manual, and a pretty awesome, all terrain one with tank tracks instead of wheels. The power chair is parked right beside the recliner I’m sitting in at this exact moment. If I wanted to go anywhere, I’d have to transfer into it. Even if I were to sit here for the rest of the day, I would have to move it in order to see the entire TV screen, so I can’t be in denial as to its existence and/or depressed by my dependency on it………..,or can I ?
Have you ever heard of the Kubler-Ross 5 stages of grief; Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance? You probably have, but did you know that the stages are a nonlinear cycle? As many times as I learned about this process in college, etc, I apparently didn’t grasp that part. I guess I always thought of it as an orderly checklist, “Ok, I’m done with denial. What’s next? Oh, it’s time to be angry now.”, or, ”Whew! I’ve finally gone from depression to acceptance. Depression sucks and I am so glad I won’t have to do that again”.
Yeah, yeah, you already knew the stages don’t necessarily have to be in that order, although, if they weren’t, they wouldn’t make the cool acronym DABDA. You probably already knew that you can be in multiple stages at one time, and that nothing says you can’t go through a stage more than once, right? Well, I didn’t, or I did and forgot it, or maybe I’m just now grasping the core concept of “nonlinear”, but this is my lightbulb moment, so let me have it.
I’ve denied (how many times do you have to fall before you admit somethings wrong?) I’ve been angry (…um…a lot?…I don’t have anything witty for this), I’ve bargained (If I can just get back to using my rollator, I’m going to do….), I’ve been depressed (also a lot, because multiple sclerosis is depressing), and I’ve accepted (so, so many things that I didn’t want to and never thought I’d have to). I’ve repeated the cycle so many times since I was diagnosed that you’d think a little melancholy over a disabled magazine taking the place of the abled magazines that used to occupy my side table wouldn’t faze me, but it does. Apparently, getting a magazine for disabled veterans was a fresh reminder that I am one and it tossed me right back into the denial and depression steps of the cycle.
I suppose, when I’m ready, I’ll move to the step of accepting this “new normal”, just like I eventually accepted all the “new normals” each time the goal posts moved. It helps to know that accepting doesn’t mean liking, finding the “silver lining”, embracing, or otherwise being happy about. It might be the final step in the cycle, but accepting is still part of grieving.
Please don’t misunderstand. I am genuinely happy to be loved and taken care of by my family. We are so blessed that all our needs are met and I am very fortunate to be home with them instead of the alternative. I am grateful to have the tools available that allow me to participate in my own life, so I guess I’m grateful for and accepting of my wheelchair, but I refuse to be grateful or happy that MS put me in one.
I guess that’s another example of a multiple sclerosis paradox. I’m grateful that there’s an alternative to crawling across the floor, but I’m not grateful that MS took away my ability to walk.
Maybe I should publish my own magazine. I wonder if the name, “Grudgingly Disabled”, is already taken?
“Be sure to pick up your copy of next month’s “Grudgingly Disabled”. Articles include: 10 things to say to people who tell you that ‘you don’t look sick’ and MS support groups; how to love the camaraderie while hating that you were ever qualified to join one”.
Then again, it probably wouldn’t attract (m)any advertisers so it would be really expensive to publish, not to mention, a lot of hard work. I don’t really care for either of those things, so maybe I should just start a snarky, lazily written blog instead.