I Think I Want a Cane
I haven’t written for a spell so I’ve got a few things running through my brain right now…..
First, I’ve come to the realization that I hate my job. I’m really not cut out for customer service. I much prefer working with dogs. My job is really weighing on me lately and it’s mostly because of a few patients that are super difficult. Being nice all day is exhausting and when you’ve got a few certain people that take extra effort to be nice too, I’m just toast for the rest of the day and it’s taking a toll on me. I thought I was ok with giving up my wonderful career(s) in the doggy world but it turns out that I’m not ok at all. I tried. I really put in an effort to be happy at a desk job. I have failed.
Second, I hate the fact that I am in-flexible (un-flexible?). I do volunteer work with a local dog rescue. It’s my one thing that keeps me connected to my old life. Today we had a public event that I helped at. It was me and two younger volunteers (I think they are both 24) that are still fairly new to dog rescue. I was sort of supervising and they were there to talk to potential adopters, handle the dogs and help with the set up and break down of the tent and tables, etc. About an hour after we set up, they (whoever was running the event) set up a sound system and started blasting horrible pop-y, crappy, bass-y music. It was ridiculously loud. We asked that they turn it down and they did a teeny weeny bit but it was still distracting. When too much noise is going on, my brain ceases to function normally. This makes me have to concentrate harder which exhausts me faster. I am just not flexible when it comes to too much stimuli around me. I cannot go with the flow like the old days. We were told that bands would be playing later in the afternoon (so we planned to leave early) but no one mentioned the all-day-dance-party. About halfway through the event, another volunteer showed up that I had no idea was coming (a guy about my age) so I decided to go to my car and try to relax for awhile since another “adult” was there to supervise. Once I got to my car and sat in the relative quiet for awhile and the buzzing in my legs and head subsided, I realized that I was starving hungry. Low blood sugar does not help my body functions either. Luckily there was a food place right next to where I was parked so I walked (hobbled, really) over and grabbed a coffee and a sandwich and moseyed back to our tent area. Well, I only brought three chairs and all three were occupied. Now, all three of these people know that I am partially disabled. That on top of the fact that I am STANDING trying to eat my sandwich, does anyone offer me their seat? Nope. I am totally exhausted at this point and saying out loud what I need is not something that my brain thought about. Instead, I just stood there, eating my sandwich, hating the three able-bodied people occupying MY chairs. This brings me to my third point:
I think I want a cane. I’ve come to realize that since I look “normal”, people forget that I am disabled in any way. My husband, being the gentleman that he is, has spoiled me. He offers his seat to older people, pregnant women, disabled people…..people that are trying to freaking eat. I’m thinking that if I walk with a cane, maybe it will be a reminder that I am NOT able-bodied and capable of walking great distances or standing for long periods of time. I’m not shy about saying what I need but when I am 80% exhausted (I saved a couple spoons so I could drive home safely) I’m not as good about speaking up. Some of the patients at work have some pretty cool looking canes so maybe I’ll start shopping for one. I think I could totally rock a cane and make it look cool…..at least that’s what I’ll tell myself each time I’m out and about with it.