Mile 1: Surviving physical & emotional tragedy
Mile 2: Completing Rehabilitation
Mile 3: Reconnecting with the world
I feel as if I'd made a food dish without love, passion. I've added all of the right ingredients,followed every step of preparation, employed all the right methods, temperatures, and proportions, but because it was something just "put together", it doesn't feel right. The desire and excitement aren't proportionally right and I think I just need to scrap the dish and start over.
Take a breath.
I started work on January 18th, 2010.
Though this (to me) isn't a huge deal, it was. I hate the spotlight being on me whether it be photos, attention, special treatment....I don't know why, but it embarrasses me.
Ironically, I like people to know who I am. I like to be a presence in all of your lives. Who doesn't want to be known or heard for something good?
I did everything right as far as paperwork, e-mails, phone calls go, but something felt off. Thankfully the transition was seamless, the work was easy, and oddly enough it was the rest of the day that was off.
The women's restroom on our floor has a VERY heavy door. There's a small 1/2 inch lip in front of the door. Going from a dead stop to rolling over an object requires a lot of strength, opposed to just being able to roll over with momentum as your strength. I open the door and let the bolt , that locks the door in place, rest on the frame so that I can pop a wheelie and charge at the door to open it. Sorry door. Once I'm in, I usually get chewed up by the door's weight and have to maneuver carefully using both arms in order to prevent injury (more injury I should say) to my hands, arms, and chair. After that obstacle I proceed through the interstitial area to another door which thankfully swings open.
Then comes the social interaction, the stares, the awkward meetings with the other women in the restroom. In life you tend to be insensitive towards situations until you're forced to engage them. In the first month back at work I've encountered 3 separate women who purposely used the Handicap Restroom while I was in there. Once while washing my hands prior to going to the restroom a woman passed me up while doing the "pee pee" dance and rushed into the handicap stall, bypassing the 2 regular stalls. She spent 5 minutes in the restroom, 4 of which she repeatedly blew her nose and flushed the toilet, about 8 times I'd say, until I just couldn't stand it. With a stern voice I said, "Excuse me, are you done in there because I'm in a wheelchair.". She assumed I was done and about to leave because she saw me washing my hands. EEHHR ::game show buzzer:: WRONG ANSWER!
I get it, maybe you like having elbow room or maybe you like feeling elite by using the biggest stall in all of Wonderland. I confess, I've used the handicap stall myself prior to injury, but if you're going to use "that" stall, please be quick and don't assume that someone is done because they're not in the stall. For heaven's sake, just open your mouth and ask!
Common sense, I know, but for some reason, a specific group of people in high management positions seem to lack it.
As for the door situation, I've contacted the building's management office and was told by some intern or desk assistant that the building's policies were to have the doors shut that hard in order to prevent "peeping" into the women's restroom. Even after explaining that there was an interstitial area, the parrot echoed that it was policy. I doubt he passed the message on so I have to follow up. I don't want to get ugly, nasty, manipulative, I don't want to pull out trump cards like "worker's comp", but if I have to, I will.
One thing I've learned through the last year was how to advocate for myself. I will call back again and again until it gets done, even if I have to pull a few strings. Two snaps and a swivel of the neck, THAT'S RIGHT!!!
So, I guess frustration seems to be the wrong ingredient in my dish, yet perseverance seems to correct the situation.
I've received all of your prayers and well-wishes and am grateful to know that a motley little crew that I call friends are there to encourage, push, and wish me onto better things. :)
