It's Not Just A Poorly Leg

Hello dear readers!

This week’s offering owes a lot to one of those moments of serendipity that crops up in one's life from time to time. In fact, although what follows will be posted on Sunday as per usual, the inciting event that has triggered this post occurred on Friday, which is, in fact, when I'm writing this. Confused? You will be!

Imagine, if you will, yours truly and the long suffering Mrs S-P queuing up patiently in the local supermarket, the weekly shop just about completed. Thankfully there has been no loss of life or limb in the process and perhaps more remarkably, my patience, never good when it comes to shopping, is not entirely spent either. In fact we had just got to the point where the overworked, underpaid individual on the checkout puts our groceries through the scanner thingy and I try my level best to get out of doing any of the packing when the following words graced my weary ears.

"So, what happened then?"

Now this, I’m sure you'll agree, is quite an open question. In fact given the lack of context the inquiry could have been aimed at just about anything. Certain things could probably be ruled out of course. The fact that it had come from the young man behind the till, who I didn't know from Adam, indicated that he wasn't asking about my recent change in employment status for instance. I wasn't in team colours either, so it obviously wasn't regarding Leeds’ latest defeat. In fact without that all important context the question was all but unanswerable. Luckily I tend to carry that context around with me.

You see, dear readers, this isn't the first time I've been asked that question; and I do mean that exact question, and it inevitably seems to mean the same thing. What the questioner is actually asking is, "So, what event, or sequence of events, transpired to result in you needing the use of a wheelchair my good man?" (Alright, maybe not in quite so many words but I'm sure you get the point.) And it's a question I hate.

There are a couple of reasons for this. Firstly it's invasive in the extreme. I appreciate that there's a natural curiosity that is piqued when someone like myself comes a-trundling along, but come on people; ways and means! No preamble, no existing relationship, no seeking permission to actually ask the question, (I.e. 'Excuse me, would you mind if I just asked you a couple of questions about your disability?) and the setting? Yeah, the middle of a supermarket surrounded by shoppers and their kids is exactly where I like to discuss such things. It's not awkward in the least. In fact as I was rounding world foods I was already fighting a losing battle with the urge to pull someone aside and give them a full and frank lecture on just that topic. I could have even been talked into starting some kind of  regular discussion group over by fresh produce, oh yeah, now that would've been good.

The second point is that the question is not just invasive, it’s also hugely assumptive. The person posing it is not just inquiring after the nature of my disability or even why I’m a wheelchair user. No, specifically the question is "What happened..." assuming that some event occurred, at some point in my life, the result of which was my current circumstance. Now technically I suppose this is true but as that incident would have occurred when I was knee high to a foetus it's not really what the questioner is driving at. No, usually, the questioner’s rather ghoulish curiosity is aimed squarely at discovering the details of some kind of accident be it a car crash, industrial accident, sporting tragedy, or some other bizarre event, (think start of casualty or a less lethal final destination)... There are of course exceptions to this but I’d certainly give it a solid eight out of ten on the likelihood scale, especially when the question is posed so bluntly. There's usually a reason for that.

People, you see, tend to identify with people they think are like themselves in some way, and if that person has had a brush with such an accident, perhaps injuring their leg in some way, (or even if they know someone who has), and they see your friendly neighbourhood blogger wheeling towards them then, aha! Common ground! This did indeed prove to be the case with our overly sharing cashier friend, who, as the debit card payment took an apparent eternity to go through, went on to tell myself and Mrs S-P all about how he had been in just such an accident, had had to use a wheelchair for a couple of months, and now had to go to the hospital every six months because he had 'a bit of a poorly leg'! It was at this point Mrs S-P took one look at my face and engineered a speedy exit for the both of us.

Now, I’m not some uncaring, unfeeling monster. I’m sure this gentleman has his own struggles, his own battles to fight and I'm sure what he went through was horrible. The error he has made here though, is to equate those battles with my own without having any real knowledge of me, or my life. He has made the assumption that because he has had a brush with disability, (perhaps more than a brush, who knows), his experience is equitable with mine; that he ‘knows what it’s like’. This has led him to make further assumptions regarding my situation, to claim some kind of fraternal relationship with me, and to assume the right to ask what is a very personal and actually quite complicated question with nary a second thought.

So, dear readers, in closing, if you find yourself with your curiosity piqued regarding the nature of disability then by all means do ask questions. In my (admittedly limited) experience you’ll find most disabled people don’t hugely mind and most of us don't bite. Do so when the situation is right though. Do so with the other party’s consent. Do so in the context of an existing relationship, or at the very least a modicum of conversational acquaintance. Do so knowing that everyone’s situation is different, and won’t necessarily map perfectly with your own… And please (please, please, please), whatever else you do, don’t ask in the middle of a supermarket.

Until next time!