OK, that does help. You may be in a pretty good position to answer a question that I’ve wondered about for a while. I’ve always wanted to pose it to someone who’s “been there.” And I’d like to preface my question by saying that I mean absolutely no disrespect or judgment of anyone who sees things differently, especially those who have been through it.
In my observation, it seems that a lot of able-bodied people see “simple” physical disability (by “simple” I mean little or no persistent pain, retaining your mental abilities, and still being able to move around on your own with a wheelchair, cane, or dog) – paralysis, blindness, deafness, amputation – to be “the end of the world.” People kill themselves over it. They get divorces over it. Overwrought victims, parents, and spouses go on endless medical quests to put things back the way they were – “If only I/he/she could walk/see/hear again.” It goes way beyond the point where the denial stage of grief should have ended.
Now I fully understand that a physical disability (let’s stick with paralysis here for simplicity) is no picnic, and rehab is a long, hard road. You have to remodel your house, or find a new one, or even live in a facility. You have to find new ways to perform basic bodily functions. You have to deal with people staring at you and making rude comments or asking dumb questions. And on and on.
But I’ve always felt that for myself, I’d have a hard time working up a “poor me” attitude if I suddenly couldn’t walk. There would be an adjustment period, but life would go on – only with some changes. I would be essentially the same person, with perhaps a bit of “character” added. I sit at a desk to work, so I could still earn a living. I would still have the capacity to enjoy being alive. Lots of people who use wheelchairs hold jobs, raise children, and seem to lead happy lives.
Do you think that this is an unreasonable outlook? After two years, it sounds like you have adjusted to your new situation. I’ve read several autobiographies of people who’ve been paralyzed (Christopher Reeve and John Hockenberry are two that come to mind), and I’d like to think that I’d get back on track as well as they have.
I guess I’ve said all this to mitigate what I know sounds like a totally insensitive question, although I don’t mean it to be: Is it really all that bad to be paralyzed?
[sub](What about the other disabilities I mentioned? Blindness would make it hard to edit books, but (1) I’m already severely nearsighted, so I guess I’d just throw out my glasses, and (2) I’d work up my musical abilities, or find a way to teach. Deafness would be tough, because I’d lose music, which I love dearly, but I think sign language is a lovely medium of expression. And I could still drive. Amputation? I hope it’s the left leg I lose, because it would suck to lose my right leg and still have to deal with the ingrown toenail on the left. I think I could deal with losing one arm, although giving up the piano would be tough (but I would still be able to sing), and losing both hands or arms would be pretty bad.)[/sub]