There isn’t a fancy or more elaborate story. Nor is there any reason to sue the weather for a wet step. It happened. It’s a pain. And I’m the one dealing with it.
Six months on I’m starting to walk unaided. Each day I have varying amounts of pain that I deal with. It affects how I feel, how I present myself and what I feel like doing. Basically, it controls my life.
I get people are trying to be humorous and friendly. I have a limp and old ladies pass me as I walk. But it’s not a joke and I’m bored of being defined by it.
You wouldn’t dare define someone who was permanently disabled in a wheelchair? Or would you? Would you joke about their wheels or inability to do something you take for granted? I doubt it. So why do it to me.
I’m more than the crutches or swollen ankle. The X-ray’s and consultants.
Just because my leg was broken hasn’t stopped me from working, or thinking, or going out, or having fun. I’m still very capable of a regular conversation. Particularly one that doesn’t revolve around what happened. As if you aren’t the 15,000th person to give me the Spanish Inquisition.
So next time you decide to ask “oh no, what happen?!” Just remember that I’m probably very bored of this conversation. That it’s none of your business and maybe if you want to discuss something more worth talking about, I’ll give you the time of day.