I am back in the saddle again with my book, The Disability-Friendly Wedding Planner, and I’m telling you, it’s gonna be a long road.
The book’s purpose is to help disabled and chronically ill individuals plan their weddings, but I’m not entirely sure it’s doing that right now. I’m talking to one agent who hasn’t gotten back to me yet after submitting my manuscript, and I nervously await the next steps.
Additionally, or not additionally rather, the book has been slashed a bit. It no longer covers as wide a net of disabilities as I had once liked to. Now it only covers mobility, chronic illness, and chronic pain, which when you think about it is pretty huge. There are lots of chronic illnesses and chronic pain conditions out there, and lots of varying degrees of mobility.
I have lots lots lots of research to do, and if you’d like to help, email me.
As an anxious Spoonie bride, bewildered graduate student, and fearful sleeper, I own many titles. This weekend I tacked another on to my name.
Mobility aid user.
Mobility aid babe. It’s taken a good bit of mindfulness to come to this conclusion.
I had my bridal shower, and I was convinced I should not go if I could not do my makeup. I was able to prettify myself, but the problem remained that I was in extreme pain and lightheaded.
I decided to grab my dad’s hiking stick and use it as a cane. Thankfully everyone was understanding and only two people asked questions.
Today I attempted to see my friend and I had to use the same hiking stick to cross a parking lot. It was basically an instant KO. The poor hiking stick fell multiple times while we ate at a restaurant and strangers helped me pick it up as they spoke to me like a two year old.
I am not happy about this. Fiancé has been talking about getting me a motorized wheelchair for a while now. As for my opinion on this, it is still no. I have asked for occupational and physical therapy and am hoping it helps.
When my fiancé and I are together we like to dance – he scoops me up into his arms, I cling to him and we sway to our favorite love songs. Before my illness I went swing and salsa dancing. He took dance classes, and is a great dancer. But I mainly love the rhythm, the movement, and his arms.
I know that no matter what mobility aid I rock, he will still dance with me.
Pocket full of starlight: there may be times when you feel like other people define you by your illness, but the ones who matter won’t.
Pocket full of darkness: it’s hard to come to grips with needing a mobility aid, especially if you were once a fit, active person. It’s okay. Feel all the good and bad feelings and take them at face value. I’d worry about you if you weren’t a little freaked.