Marginal Acceptance

The entire time my foot has been hurt, I’ve refused to use those motorised carts at stores. I thought about it for a second, until I saw a little old lady drive by in one and I thought, “No, I’ll leave them to people who actually need them.” I didn’t want to put myself in that undignified position, either.

Until the other day when a manager-type asked me if I was doing okay, getting along on my crutches and pushing my cart. I decided to be honest and say, “Well, actually…no.” She commanded me to stay put while she corralled a vehicle. The other woman she was talking to rolled up in it. We had a conversation about her upcoming knee replacement, and how terrible it is to be incapacitated by our bodies falling apart.

A few minutes later I was sitting in an aisle trying to figure out what I wanted to do, whisper-yelling curses at myself about how much my foot hurt, and how much it sucked to have to ride around in a scooter. I heard a guy in the next aisle say, “Whoever is in the next aisle is…” Then he walked out with his son, and looked me in the eyes with this look on his face:

I said, “Greetings!” in my “Glad to see you!” voice. I was bemused that he thought himself to be so removed from receiving judgment, thus I dealt utter amusement. He just kept looking at me like that as he walked off. I should have asked him if he wanted to take a spin in my scooter, or maybe asked him what kind of person I am.

Several minutes after that the manager who demanded that I ride around helped me locate some things, and chastised me for feeling some kind of way about riding around. She said that having a boot and crutches seemed like a pretty good reason for kicking back while I shop. I couldn’t disagree with her logic.

I realise now that the reason I didn’t want to ride in a scooter was I didn’t want to admit that I have become that helpless. I hate having to ask for help. I hate the looks I got riding around in it. Those things are so slow and inefficient. I hate the mack-truck-loud beep it makes when I put it in reverse. It hurts my ears and it seems a bit excessive.

But, I guess it’s marginally better than limping around exhausted, pushing or carrying a basket. Who needs dignity when trying to keep on living like I’m “normal” isn’t quite working, anyways?