Hips Don't Lie.
I have been meaning to post something for the past few days and time has not allowed it of me. However as sleep has come fitfully to me over the past few weeks and I found myself cleaning at 8:30AM today...I think I can post something now. (*edit: I am finishing this post a few days later...)
As many of you know, my hip is broken. In the winter of the 8th grade my bones discovered that they did not like skiing and my sacroiliac joint decided to break, leaving a piece the size of a quarter floating happily around in my body. For the most part, I'm fine. Every winter and heavy rain holds arthritis pains, and that time of the month increases stiffness in my hip and back but other wise I function well enough. As such, I have never really considered myself to be a "handicapped" person even though I know if I desired I could go to the Secretary of State and get a tag for my car saying I can park closer to mall entrances and such. I just don't feel the need. I know I can make it to my destination it just might take me longer some days.
One of the things that I find amusing however are movie theater seats. One would think that sitting would be quite possibly the best thing I could do for myself, however one of the things that does my body in the swiftest are movie theater chairs. The inability to shift positions sends me limping out of the theater. Sunday Nic and I went to go see 300 (a fabulous movie) which clocks in around the two hour mark. As we retrieved our tickets there were multiple groups of 6 to 8 people, mostly men, entering the theater as well. Many of them looked at us as we approached- not a "checking out" type of eye movement, but more of a registration that there were people joining the line. As we took our seats, we sat in the midst of these fellows. After the credits rolled it felt like I had not use my right leg in two years. I needed the hand rail to walk down the stairs, and once I started moving, my thigh went numb. As I was slowly limping out of the theater, we crossed paths with these same groups of guys again. This time, I felt the looks. You could almost read the thought process in the faces of the two or three that I locked eyes with. "But...she walked fine on the way in..." It even took Nic a moment to register why I was not keeping up with him.
Situations like this make me wonder what would it have been like if I would have broken more than my a piece of my hip off that day. What if I would have had a permanent limp or worse? This has most definitely not been the first time I have been looked at funny, and I don't expect it to be the last (hehe), and it's not even a big deal as it is not like I am actually missing a leg...but whenever I have problems walking it's a feeling similar to have a huge pimple on your nose. You know it's there and you function none-the-less, but it always feels like people are staring at it (even if they are not).
As many of you know, my hip is broken. In the winter of the 8th grade my bones discovered that they did not like skiing and my sacroiliac joint decided to break, leaving a piece the size of a quarter floating happily around in my body. For the most part, I'm fine. Every winter and heavy rain holds arthritis pains, and that time of the month increases stiffness in my hip and back but other wise I function well enough. As such, I have never really considered myself to be a "handicapped" person even though I know if I desired I could go to the Secretary of State and get a tag for my car saying I can park closer to mall entrances and such. I just don't feel the need. I know I can make it to my destination it just might take me longer some days.
One of the things that I find amusing however are movie theater seats. One would think that sitting would be quite possibly the best thing I could do for myself, however one of the things that does my body in the swiftest are movie theater chairs. The inability to shift positions sends me limping out of the theater. Sunday Nic and I went to go see 300 (a fabulous movie) which clocks in around the two hour mark. As we retrieved our tickets there were multiple groups of 6 to 8 people, mostly men, entering the theater as well. Many of them looked at us as we approached- not a "checking out" type of eye movement, but more of a registration that there were people joining the line. As we took our seats, we sat in the midst of these fellows. After the credits rolled it felt like I had not use my right leg in two years. I needed the hand rail to walk down the stairs, and once I started moving, my thigh went numb. As I was slowly limping out of the theater, we crossed paths with these same groups of guys again. This time, I felt the looks. You could almost read the thought process in the faces of the two or three that I locked eyes with. "But...she walked fine on the way in..." It even took Nic a moment to register why I was not keeping up with him.
Situations like this make me wonder what would it have been like if I would have broken more than my a piece of my hip off that day. What if I would have had a permanent limp or worse? This has most definitely not been the first time I have been looked at funny, and I don't expect it to be the last (hehe), and it's not even a big deal as it is not like I am actually missing a leg...but whenever I have problems walking it's a feeling similar to have a huge pimple on your nose. You know it's there and you function none-the-less, but it always feels like people are staring at it (even if they are not).