Dear Busybody People: Yes I Am Disabled
Stop glaring at me when I park in a handicapped spot. No I don't have a wheelchair and I'm not 90 years old. I'll never BE 90 years old. My parents weren't, either. They both died of heart disease at age 50 and 54. I am 53 and I've had heart disease for over a decade. You, too, can get a shiny new handicapped placard if you have open heart surgery and a heart attack before you even wake up from that. It's so much fun. I highly recommend it. You get a whole bunch of pills to take every day. Too bad none of them give you a buzz. But you've got pills to make you pee, pills to make you pee even more once a week so you don't drown in your own fluids, pills to lower your blood pressure, pills to help your heart work better since the blood pressure pills are hard on your heart, pills to lower your cholesterol that don't work at all on your triglycerides and don't raise your below-normal HDL (the good kind).
I mustn't forget doctors' appointments, oh what fun they are--you'll enjoy lots of those. Another really fun part of heart disease is having everyone judge you. Gosh isn't it fun to be sick and have everyone tell you that if you'd just done x, you'd have avoided it, especially when x and y and z were things you DID do but they didn't save you from your crap genetics?
But hey, I'm enjoying the handicapped parking so, so much. Especially when I can actually find a handicapped spot that isn't taken. That pretty much means I don't go to festivals or if I do, I must get there super early because those spots go really fast.
By all means, call the police. I'll show them my permit for the placard and you can keep wondering how I scored the cool parking spot and why I drive a Miata (it's one of the few pleasures in my life). I know you think disabled people aren't supposed to have nice cars. I guess my life isn't crappy enough for you yet. Whatever.
I know I'm just lucky to even be alive. And someday, you'll have a placard too.
I mustn't forget doctors' appointments, oh what fun they are--you'll enjoy lots of those. Another really fun part of heart disease is having everyone judge you. Gosh isn't it fun to be sick and have everyone tell you that if you'd just done x, you'd have avoided it, especially when x and y and z were things you DID do but they didn't save you from your crap genetics?
But hey, I'm enjoying the handicapped parking so, so much. Especially when I can actually find a handicapped spot that isn't taken. That pretty much means I don't go to festivals or if I do, I must get there super early because those spots go really fast.
By all means, call the police. I'll show them my permit for the placard and you can keep wondering how I scored the cool parking spot and why I drive a Miata (it's one of the few pleasures in my life). I know you think disabled people aren't supposed to have nice cars. I guess my life isn't crappy enough for you yet. Whatever.
I know I'm just lucky to even be alive. And someday, you'll have a placard too.