Last Wednesday I had 2 good ones. To set up the first one, I have a standing lunch every Wednesday with a friend of mine that used to come to OOO on Wednesdays but now has a Wednesday night class. I mentioned to her at least once before this that I should get off my butt and get something to drink so that I could take my meds. Then I say,
"I need to get up. I need to take them. I'm really starting to like being functional again."
To which some guy in the room I don't really know says
"What were you before?"
Um, non-functional. DUH! (I said it nicer)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fast forward to the end of OOO when I was tired, my meds were wearing off, and I was having trouble centering my chair so that I could get it on the lift of the paratransit vehicle. In my head I went
Man, I'm such a... [pause while I think of the word] spaz
Which is hysterically funny to my twisted sense of humor, and not at all offensive (why would I offend myself?) because my official diagnosis is spastic triplegia cerebral palsy (or quadriplegia depending on who you ask), it's where the term comes from, and those of us with CP lose motor control when we're tired. Thus it follows logically that I should have trouble getting straight onto the lift. FYI, I decided some time ago that if the word was not going to be removed from the English language it might as well be used correctly, and I am, in fact, a spaz. Literally.
0 comments:
Post a Comment