Bahahahahahahahahahahaha! Yes, totally redeemed yourself there.
Ok, first my question. It may be a little insensitive so I apologize ahead of time.
Have you ever faced outright hateful discrimination or bigotry because of your condition? Anything along the lines of having someone say “disabled people should all just be rounded up and killed, they are such a drain on society,” etc. If so, how did you respond or deal with it? If not, how do you suppose you’d respond or deal with it if it did happen one day?
Now, I’m sure you realize this, but I bet a lot of the staring and looks that you get from strangers isn’t a judgmental, or weirded out type of look, but a lot of the time I bet it’s fascination and curiosity, maybe even admiration. I bet 9 out of 10 of the people who you catch staring at you are thinking things like, “what an amazing person. I wonder what life is like for her. She must be such an inspiration to the people around her.” I know that you said you get annoyed when people say how strong you must be, etc, etc, but I think that only speaks to the fact that you are SO well adjusted to your disability that you find it alienating that people WOULDN’T think you are strong. So being “strong” makes you averse to hearing that you are “strong” if that makes any sense. In a similar sense, I wonder if it’s kind of like being an atheist, and hearing with great surprise from other people that you are such a “moral” person. Of course I’m moral! Why wouldn’t I be? Haha, anyhow…
You say you never imagined that being AB’d would be a relatively short part of your (hopefully) long life, but I also bet you never imagined that most of your (hopefully) long life would be being a person who deeply inspires everyone around you either! All of us here on this message board, as evidenced by all the “awesome” compliments being tossed your way, are all better people after having heard your story and asked our questions and had them answered. And we are just random people on a message board. I can only imagine what a positive impact you’ve had on everyone in your personal and professional life. It really just boggles the mind.
And to top it all off, you have a very eloquent writing style that is pleasant to read. Thanks so much for joining the dope, and you make me especially glad that I joined not too long ago.
Now to the other part of your post about being a therapist. Yes, having a disability yourself would be a challenge to some patients. IMHO, it is a challenge they need. I would predict it would go much better than the times you described in which you were presented to newly injured patients as a role model. You would just go in and do your job; the role modelling would be there, but not in their faces.
My standard answer to “but I am going to walk again” was a sincere “I hope so. That would be great. Until then, let’s figure out how you are going to manage X.”
That’s an uncomfortable question for me to consider, because I’ve got to assume that the answer is “yes.” Am I fully capable of meeting new people and making new friends? Yes. I have an active social life, a close-knit group of friends and family, and a wide circle of acquaintances.
But there are a lot of things I can’t physically do. While I’m not afraid to push the envelope and find out through trial and error where my limits are, there are some things that I’m just not going to be able to participate in. Like, a group of friends went hiking this weekend, so I took the morning easy and just met them afterward for brunch.
The things I can do, I still usually need some kind of special adaptation, or at the very least muscle-y guys, to help out with. For example, a friend invited me out on her non-wheelchair-accessible boat a couple weeks ago, and so I needed a couple of the guys in attendance to help get me in the boat. These are guys I’ve known forever, since before I got hurt, so I was totally comfortable in this situation. But I don’t know if I’d have gone if it was going to be a group of people I mostly didn’t know. I don’t like strange dudes manhandling me. Unless they look like Sam Worthington. 
When I’m out with friends, I prefer not to bring an attendant, so they’ve also got to be people I feel comfortable enough to entrust my physical needs (and any emergency situations) to.
These are not insurmountable obstacles, but I admit that I do sometimes forgo the opportunity to hang out with someone new if I can just as easily spend time with people I already know and who are already vetted. So, that’s probably not the answer you expected–maybe you thought people were turned off by me and that made it hard to make friends? In fact, I think I have the opportunity to make friends a lot more often than I actually take that opportunity.
But I will say that I know there’s a subset of people out there who are just ignorant pricks and wouldn’t want to be caught in public with a girl in a chair. For them, my chair acts as a very efficient asshat-filter.
There are plenty of places to dive that are warm enough to not need wetsuits. Although you did mention having some issues with regulating body temperature, so I’m not sure how that would play into it.
I’ve been on dive boats with a diver who only had one leg - there’s always a way around the challenges.
I’d love to hear more about it when you follow through. And if you ever make it down to South Florida, we can go diving here. I hang with a few insanely experienced instructors - I suspect they know how to help out. I’m always looking for a good excuse to get into the water. 
-D/a
Forgive me for intruding on Umkay’s thread but I just wanted to echo her sentiments here. The “you are so strong” comments do get quite irksome after a while, and for me it’s because they smack of the cliched ‘positive talk’ that many people feel is necessary to engage in with a person in a wheelchair. I mean, these comments come from people who know absolutely nothing about me other than the fact that I am paralyzed and am not currently breaking down in utter devastation. :rolleyes:
Are there issues with body temperature control? Water can really suck away your body heat, you know, but you won’t feel the cold and it’s my understanding quads have problems with regulating body temperature.
Good on you for trying all that, by the way. I hate to see people limit themselves.
Your bowels are in better shape than many AB folks. I guess you probably don’t hear this a lot, but that part of your lower body is under very good control! 
What do you do while you’re sitting there? Surf the internet? Stare at those 3-D Magic Eye things taped to the wall? Count tiles?
(I do all three. Not at once, mind you.)
Where do you wanna go diving?
Here’s a curveball:
Do you watch “Curb Your Enthusiasm”? If so, did you see the “Wanda Wheelchair” episode? What was your reaction to it? Did you find it humorous, insulting, misguided, brilliant, or whatever?
I think we all appreciate your candidness. I’ll admit to being totally ignorant of the challenges of someone with your physical condition. You are fighting ignorance. I’m still pondering your response to my question about pornography. I’ve got to really think it through because I’m having trouble imagining how everything is connected (or disconnected). That’s my problem, not yours.
Can your caregiver do that for you, or would it be considered prostitution?
On the “lemons into lemonade” side of things, is there anything you’ve discovered you have a talent for that you wouldn’t have known about had you not been injured? Like, you’re a great headstick painter*, or you excel at your job which you wouldn’t have chosen as a career before the accident, or your situation has allowed you to develop as a writer (really enjoying your responses here, BTW), or something along those lines?
*I used to work for a company that produced a documentary about Dan Keplinger- you’re probably familiar with him. He’s a pretty amazing guy, and he did some awesome paintings for our office.
You mentioned having conversations (looking up, etc.) so I assume that means you can speak like any AB person. How does that work, physically, since speaking requires conscious control of the diaphrahm? I get that your tongue and jaw can form words, but how do you control the air through your vocal cords?
She covered that in Post 119
Use a drysuit rather than a wetsuit – a drysuit is a great deal easier to get into and get out of. Consider a breathable (e.g. Gore Tex), two piece (i.e. separate pants and top) drysuit.
Not completely. Breathing is an unconscious process, so it doesn’t require any muscle control. Speaking is a conscious proces, and does require some overt muscle control, which is what I was wondering about. How does one control the diaphragm muscle enough to speak, when that muscle isn’t under direct control anymore?
Nope, I’ve never experienced that. Unsurprisingly, I would lose my sh*t if somebody ever said that to me.
However, I have had a lot of conversations with people about the “right to die” thing. There was a quadriplegic girl who starved herself last year to commit suicide, and that provoked a lot of questions from friends. I don’t have any problem calmly talking to people about this issue. I think a lot of people (who don’t know me) assume my life is so burdensome that I’d probably rather be dead. Nothing could be further from the truth. So, when I have the opportunity to discuss this with people, I emphasize my fantastic quality of life and the things I can do, not the fact that I can’t use my body like they can. I also admit that I have somewhat of a charmed existence for a high quad, and if I constantly battled pressure sores, respiratory infections, had to depend totally on my parents for my intimate needs…I might want to die, too.
Ambivalid already did a heck of a job responding to this, but I’ll add this: That just makes no sense to me. Just seeing me in my wheelchair, someone has no idea what I’m like. I could be a total d*ck or a child murderer out on parole. I’m offended by this kind of thinking, because it implies that 1) my life is soooo onerous that not weeping constantly is proof of my enormous emotional fortitude and grace; and 2) that the chair somehow transforms everyone who lands in it into a nice person. Both are untrue. Now, I don’t have anything against being called strong, per se, but I’d prefer it be based on something other than the fact that I’m disabled and not also suicidally depressed about that fact.
On a related note, I hate shows like “Extreme Home Makeover,” so it may be that I just have an allergy to inspiration.
YES. This is an excellent parallel.
But to be fair, going poo is disgusting even when AB people do it. They just aren’t usually called upon to explain to others exactlyhow it works.
Ahahahaha! Mostly, I read on my Kindle or listen to a podcast or music.
I’m in Southern California, so I’ll start around here. I’ve heard good things about Mexico and Central America for diving, so if I like it, maybe that’s in my future.
In general, yeah, I have issues with temp control. I can’t sweat below my neck, so I can overheat fast. And I can’t shiver to warm up. Add to that the fact that I can’t feel if I’m too hot or too cold. As for having temp control issues when diving, I really don’t know yet. But quads dive all the time, so I’m assuming there’s a workaround–maybe I’ll just have a really thick wet or dry suit?
Do you know why the muscles responsible for peristalsis continue to do their thing?