The 8th Month.....

It has virtually been 8 months since what happened to me....happened. In all this time, I have not put a lot of effort into accepting my condition. Well - my name is Michael Freedman and I am disabled. This realisation happened when I got some post from the DWP (Department for Work & Pensions) clearly stating that I am disabled - with the higher rate of physical disability. When you get this - I guess you have no choice but to accept what you have and make plans to try and deal with it.

The last 2 weeks or so have been very tough to manage. You see, 2 and a bit weeks ago I was on the London Underground (LU), which is usually praised for its handling of disabled passengers and providing disability access, trying to get a train. In this process - a member of their staff tried to push me onto the train and ended up pushing me in the gap between the train and platform. As if this wasn't bad enough - he kept pushing thus bending my front wheels inwards, breaking off a whole bar at the front of the chair. So I am screwed. They have not made any attempt during the last few weeks to compensate me for what I suffered and they have said that they are "looking at the evidence" - this is all whilst I lay in my bed for the last 2 weeks. Eventually, after a very long and stroppy email, they agreed that as a "goodwill gesture" they would give me the full cost for the repair of the chair. So all this time later I am lying in bed, waiting for a cheque to come - then that will be another 4 days to clear and then I will be able to pay for the work needed and get the engineer to come and perform the work,

What have I learnt in the past few weeks - I am 100% reliant on this contraption to have any kind of freedom in my life. BUT - there are two types of reliance. Mental and Physical. What I have been trying to do is not be mentally reliant - that is at least something I can try to do. I don't have much choice in the physical relliance aspect. But as I said, I can only try!!

Yesterday, however, was sheer hell. A Sunday used to be a day where I would rest, recharge and spend time with my family whilst gearing myself up for the working week ahead. Considering that every day for me is a Sunday, Sundays have lost all meaning. To top this off, I just had this horrible feeling inside me where I feel totally and utterly depressed (I can say that as I have been through depression before), lost and mentally apart from my physical self. I couldnt even pick the phone up to talk to people and the thought of going outside the flat for a ciggie was even itself too much! In the end, I dealt with it thanks to the support of my wife and I am trying to get on with it.

I have come to realise that this whole situation "is what I make of it". So the best thing I can do is just get on with it and take each day as it comes. But one thing is for sure - I will have bad days and bad weeks but its how I approach them that will define me!