My life's great, right?

My best friend and I have been saying for years, “Somebody’s got it worse” to make us feel better when things are crappy. What about the poor person who can’t say that? A few years ago I read an article about a woman who as a child grabbed an electrical box near her house and blew off both arms and both legs! Dear god! She went on to marry and have a couple kids. So, on days I feel especially down I wave my arms around and kick my good leg and say “at least I have arms and legs!”

It’s so easy to appreciate the good in my life-theoretically. I know I have a great support system. Good friends, a supportive family, great medical care, blah, blah, blah. But it’s easier to dwell on the negative. For example, “Really God, you let Paris Hilton who does nothing productive with her life, be healthy? And I, who wanted nothing more than to do for the world am stricken down with a crippling disease? Let me explain. I’m not a religious person but I think doing good for the environment and other people is keeping in line with what “God” wants. I haven’t tithed to a church in years, but up until I stopped working, I regularly donated to various environmental and social groups. Never enough to get the tote bag, tee- shirt or mug, but enough to help without the overhead. Nature is where I feel a higher power, so that is my church.

That was back when I had the luxury of being idealistic. I didn’t use paper towels for years. From about age16 until 30, when it got to hard to keep washing the rags I used instead. My son’s bottom rarely felt a disposable diaper. Yes, I used a diaper service, but still. Being idealistic is a luxury. Do it fully and be as obnoxious about it as you want, because one day you may not be able to. I appease my guilt by recognizing that when I was able I left a relatively small footprint on Mother Earth.

Back to the woman with no arms and legs. She’d probably know who I’m talking about if she read this. And she was the ‘don’t feel sorry for me’ type. She drives, with her feet and bathed her kids as babies, in the sink, like all us moms have- with her feet! And she drove with her feet! It’s been a while since I read about her, but I bet she still is.

Okay, overachievers of the world, stop giving the rest of us a bad name! Fuck bootstraps!

In the grand scheme of things I have it pretty good. Take a few seconds and let the atrocities of the world wash over you so I don’t have to expound. When I’m feeling blue I can lie in my bed and watch my Tivo, so I don’t . At some point if I’m not up to feeding myself, my ma, my kids or my boyfriend will bring me food in my room. Considering that I have to be crippled, I have a pretty good life.

But so many people have it better. One of my pet peeves is a really overweight person with no health problems. Stop eating. I don’t mean a few extra pounds. You know who I’m talking about. And if it’s you and you can walk, either be happy with yourself or walk it off!

That is where “life’s not fair” comes in. Roll with the punches, blah, blah, blah. Make the best of what you are given. I think that while I do think I get more than my share of hurdles, the universe gave me a healthy dose of being able to laugh at myself. That is worth more than being a bit healthier with no sense of humor. I don’t know how I would make it otherwise.

I have laughed my way through horrible situations. And I always use my handicap to my advantage when I can. Oh, yeah, free parking at Graceland. Sally Mae forgave all my student loans (30 k-ish) because I‘m “permanently” disabled. The MS society of Wisconsin paid my huge gas bill and bought me adaptive pedals for my recumbent bike last year. I also got a scooter a few years ago that Medicare paid for. It’s too bulky to put in my car, but it’s made many trips to the park, to get kids from school, and to go tooling around the neighborhood. I’ve had a lot of fun times on that thing. My only regret is I don’t have someone videotaping me all the time. Keep watching for “Adventures on a Scooter”.

Say what you will about the government dropping the ball with health care. Apparently if you’re poor enough and sick enough, they’ll take pretty good care of you. There are a few programs I should be eligible for, but I’m too young to qualify. Really? I’m too young to be crippled? I hadn’t noticed.

But, on the bright side, I am the most spoiled cripple around. So really, like I said I’ve got it pretty great. Not Montel Williams great but so great that when I’m down I have friends who let me vent while sitting on their own problems and always act like mine are “worse”, when really, a problem’s a problem. I even have someone who stops by to drop off a 12-pack when I’m alone and broke. That’s a friend!

My therapist thinks I do such a great job coping. I told her that she doesn’t see me when I’m having a bad time. She said she knows that because I don’t make it to my appointments those days. Aah, grasshopper. I’m going to go have a glass of wine and some aged cheddar cheese. (Note; spoiled)