I didn’t think that this blog was the place to talk about my very strong feelings about the results of the November U.S. election. And since I’m not comfortable avoiding the elephant in the room, I’ve chosen to remain silent.
But two things have happened that lead me to post this today, Inauguration Day: the beginning of dismantling the Affordable Healthcare Act and the upcoming Women’s March.
I’m not going to present the long lists of pros and cons for retaining the ACA (ObamaCare) legislation here. But one thing is clear to me. Although the ACA did not have a direct impact on my life, it has done far more good than harm for many of my clients and I think that’s a huge step in the right direction. Similarly, I won’t debate the merits of The Women’s March. Instead, I share my experience with this issue since, as I’m discovering that, not surprisingly, I’m not alone.
From the moment I read about this event, I had two thoughts: I’d love to be part of this and I’m not going to put my body through this. And when I told friends and family that I wasn’t going to Washington or even marching locally in Boston, the consistent reply was, “Of course you shouldn’t”. No one tried to convince me otherwise. Each of those women with whom I spoke are going and each seemed confident that I was right in choosing not to.
I couldn’t find a way to feel settled with my decision until I read this post, Why The Disability March is an Important Part of the Women’s March by Cathy Chester, An Empowered Spirit . Cathy’s thoughts cleared my own fog and allowed me to see the issues more clearly. And learning about the online disability response has helped me give voice to my silence.
Yes, this is another reminder of how my physical limits influence my choices (as if I need this to remember!). It’s reminded me how easy it is to feel invisible when you’re ‘other’ . But, I needed to also be reminded that there are other ways to be part of the party. And most importantly, to all who feel outside, excluded, invisible, we each have to speak up for those who can’t or won’t.
Alyson Knop says
Rosalind,
I, too, wanted to participate in the March, or even one in my local city. A friend of mine who uses a wheelchair (CP, not a chronic illness) is going to DC, even though it’ll be tough for her to get on a bus, and I sort of felt like a loser that I wasn’t doing it. But I’ve learned in a big way in the past few days that I really must preserve my energy. I’ve had to make some family trips in the past several weeks that have exhausted me (that losing-a-lot-of-blood feeling), but I felt I needed to exercise on Wed. a.m. since I hadn’t done so in several days. Ended up in the ER with chest pains and it looked for a while like I’d need a stent in a heart artery or even bypass surgery. Miracle of miracles, tests showed I didn’t have cardiac issues, but with a long history of inflammatory illness, I could have. Instead, my doctor and my husband (and now, I) are pretty convinced this happened just because I didn’t listen to my body at all. It’s so hard to keep saying no to things, but doing so may sometimes be a choice of life over death.
Rosalind says
Thank you for sharing this, Alyson. Listening to your body can be a lot easier said than done. That’s why I developed a process called Take Your Pulse – it’s in my workbook and I”m currently figuring out how to make it a podcast. And then even when we do listen, the path to making decisions based on what we hear, can be conflict laden and confusing. It sounds as if you are doing the best you can to live with this. I hope you continue to be able to make such adjustments.