Healing

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Be very careful, your brains can be damaged just by sitting in a wheelchair. Wheelchairs also have the power to make you invisible.

I entered the disabled world by mishap. A motorcycle accident caused me to temporarily be placed into the realm of a wheelchair. A broken left leg and busted pelvis took me off my two feet. Plus, two very smashed hands kept me from being very mobile once I was in a wheelchair.

My wife and I enjoyed escaping the walls of our home from time to time as I recovered from my many injuries. We would visit the mall; watch a movie or eat out at a favorite restaurant. These little excursions were good for the soul and spirit of us both. As I recovered I needed some normal places to visit and my wife, who was my caregiver, needed some fresh air as she cared for her broken man.

A soul-busting experience would happen from time to time as we explored our world after the accident. Someone would spot us and come over to check out our well-fare and give their best wishes. They had the best of intentions but I was often left feeling a little more broken after they left.

The person would speak to my wife and ask questions; how is Tim doing? Is he still in physical therapy? Are there any more surgeries? Along with about a million other questions. The trouble was not the questions; the problem was that I was never asked those questions. Being in a wheelchair sometimes felt like being a chair. I would want to yell that “Hey, I’m alive down here! Talk to me.” Often my wife would redirect the questions to me and I was given a voice in my pain. Other times I would disappear as I watched a conversation about me take place about a few feet above my head.

I remember when a dear friend saw me at a funeral home and came over to talk. The six-foot-something successful businessman, in his tailored dark suit coat got down on his knees and looked me in the eyes and began to talk. I remember tears filling my eyes as we talked. I felt loved and respected by both his graze and touch. His eyes blessed my soul. His hand touched my broken hands and I knew that he cared.

I have returned to the land of the up-right walkers but part of my soul will forever be in a wheelchair. If I see someone in a chair, I feel an urge to talk with them. So I smile big, introduce myself, make eye contact and get down on their level and listen. And sometimes, I reach out and touch my friend and let them know by my touch that I care.

Hey, let’s all do that! Please do not wait to live in a wheelchair to be ready to touch someone in a wheelchair.

No on has ever received brain damage from a wheelchair.



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