My Disability is not a Metaphor

Image description: photo of the song “Amazing Grace” taken from an old hymnal.

Today, I am going to write about Jesus, the Bible and Disability. Even if you aren’t a follower of Jesus, you might find something of value in what I write, because religious people are some of the worst when it comes to how they treat people with disabilities. After all, religious organizations successfully got their buildings exempted from ADA regulations in the 1990’s!

Luke 13: 10-17

Jesus Heals a Crippled Woman on the Sabbath

10 On a Sabbath Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues, 11 and a woman was there who had been crippled by a spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and could not straighten up at all. 12 When Jesus saw her, he called her forward and said to her, “Woman, you are set free from your infirmity.” 13 Then he put his hands on her, and immediately she straightened up and praised God.

14 Indignant because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, the synagogue leader said to the people, “There are six days for work. So come and be healed on those days, not on the Sabbath.”

15 The Lord answered him, “You hypocrites! Doesn’t each of you on the Sabbath untie your ox or donkey from the stall and lead it out to give it water? 16 Then should not this woman, a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan has kept bound for eighteen long years, be set free on the Sabbath day from what bound her?”

17 When he said this, all his opponents were humiliated, but the people were delighted with all the wonderful things he was doing.

***

During the past week, I listened to 3 local preachers online preach from this text. The first one was short and to the point…basically, Jesus saw, noticed, zeroed in on that woman with the severely curved spine. He SAW her. A good message!

The second was unremarkable and maybe a little dry but he made a similar point…just took a little longer to get there.

The third sermon I heard has prompted me to write this blog because I absolutely cannot listen to ONE MORE SERMON where a person with a disability in the Bible is treated as a metaphor for someone’s spiritual condition or society’s ills. In this third preacher’s sermon, the woman has been dehumanized and turned into a prop to illustrate some banal point…something to the effect of “Have you been weighed down/bent over by the burdens of life, hoping that Jesus can straighten you so that you can look up into his face?” Or some such mess as that. For this particular preacher, I do know that he makes a regular habit of turning disabled people into metaphors. He’s very able-bodied himself, and speaks out of his own youthful ableist point of view. He preached a sermon a couple years ago about Jacob (whom the Angel struck and gave him a limp after they wrestled all night) and then turned it into, “We’re all holy limpers, like Jacob.” As a person with a noticeable limp, it was clear to me then that he didn’t know his audience and he didn’t really care.

I sort of get it, actually. The Christians’ national anthem seems to be “Amazing Grace.” Remember the verse, “was blind but now I see”? There you go. Turning a disability into a metaphor for your spiritual state of being has been the “Christian way” for a few hundred years. There are other Christian hymns that do this, too. I don’t know about other religious traditions, but I do know that Americans, at least, love ‘em some metaphors. And the Christian ones excel in them.

But honestly, it just needs to stop. Stop interpreting those stories that feature people with disabilities as a metaphor for your spiritual life and reread them. How did Jesus treat them? They were real people, hurting people, rejected from their communities, outcasts of society. Back then, there was no understanding of disease and medicine like we have today. If someone was sick, the devil caused it or some evil spirit was in them. They were rejected…there was no disability insurance, no government support, no physical therapist. But Jesus SAW them and that’s the power of these stories. That’s the “good news” of the Gospel…Jesus reintegrated outcasts back into society, made them feel loved, seen, heard. He even broke rules to do it…healed on the Sabbath, fed people on the Sabbath, invited society’s rejects to the dinner feast, giving them places at the dinner table.

If your faith is so crappy that you have to turn this good news into a pathetic metaphor, it’s time to reread the gospels.

At some point, almost all of us will get a disability or become disabled. Many of us with XLH got a head start and are “experts” at it. Professorgrrl recently told me about some stiffness or arthritis she was experiencing and confessed she didn’t want to mention it to me because she is keenly aware and sensitive to all my pain and mobility challenges. I told her I wanted her to share that with me, that maybe I could help and talking about it might help, too. I wanted her to know that I SEE her. I certainly am aware that she has seen me, as Jesus did, as a real person with some disabilities who is beloved by God.

It’s important that we all do this for one another, no matter what faith you subscribe to. It’s so easy to overlook people with disabilities…sometimes even doctors don’t see us or believe us. Some of us block the sidewalks in front of our houses with shaggy trees and bushes, never considering that someone in a wheelchair might want to take a “stroll” through the neighborhood. The handicap/automatic door at my local mall has been out of order for several years because no one can be bothered to fix it. We turn our heads so as not to look into the eyes of the mentally ill person who’s asking for cash because, honestly, we’ve already decided they’re going to use that money for something we don’t approve of. We’ve all done it. Some (like that preacher) have made it an Olympic sport to ignore people with disabilities, but we’re almost all guilty of it. I know I am.

So…that’s my rant for the year! Whew, glad I got that off my chest. (See what I did there? I think that was a metaphor.)

One more thing…for Christians who’d like to explore this topic more, I recently read the book, “My Body is Not a Prayer Request,” by Dr. Amy Kenny. Good stuff in there and it was so good for me to read something that expressed what I had been feeling regarding the church for over 2 years. Check it out.

Copyright 2022, S. G. Hunter and Banjogrrldiaries

I am Able with my Cane

I just read back over my most recent blog post and don’t even remember writing it and posting it. My friend calls this “anesthesia brain.”

I’m almost one month out from my back surgery and honestly, while I’ve made great improvements, I have moments of feeling like I have hit a plateau in my recovery. I suspect this is normal.

I am no longer taking muscle relaxers for the awful leg cramps I initially had in my right leg and foot. I am also taking less pain medications and now only over-the-counter ones. My steri-strips have fallen off the incision and the rash that the steri-strips caused has gone away. I am using a heating pad in the mornings for the discomfort in my right calf, but the pain is tolerable.

Some feeling has returned to my right foot but not enough for me to walk without my cane and definitely not enough to drive a car, which I haven’t been released by the doctor to do anyway. (For at least 6 weeks after this back surgery, I am not supposed to lift anything over 5 pounds, or bend or twist.) You never think about how much bending, twisting or lifting you do each day until someone tells you that you can’t do it!

I have had a few people tell me that I am standing up straighter than I have stood in years! (Hey, maybe I’ve even regained an inch…)

The reason why I feel like I have hit a plateau in my recovery is mostly because I’m anxious about regaining the full use of my right foot. I admitted to Professorgrrl the other night that this particular problem makes me feel very vulnerable, more vulnerable than I’ve ever felt before. (Well, except for maybe a colonoscopy…that’s pretty vulnerable…)

Not that I was ever a kick boxer, soccer player or anything like that but I am a musician and a I can’t even tap that right foot. Admittedly, though, I am primarily a left foot tapper but still…

Seriously, though, I told her that I felt like I would not even be able to quickly step back to the curb if a car suddenly came out of nowhere. We had just been to the mall for a mall walk and if you live in the U.S., then y’all know how crazy people drive in the mall parking lots. We had also gone to the grocery store and this particular grocery store parking lot is SCARY for even able-bodied people. (Shout out to the Cloverdale Harris Teeter!) I know that there are people who navigate through life like this every day and it has opened up my eyes as to how scary the prospect of just going somewhere can be for someone who has a disability. Do they get used to it after awhile? I need to ask my mother about this as she has been using a cane for several years. I think she must be very brave and way more adventurous than I am. I am inclined to stay at home. The fear of falling is less.

Speaking of canes, though, Professorgrrl bought me an ergonomic cane specifically for my left hand. It’s an extra short one, too, adjustable to the height I need. She says she bought it on Amazon, if any of my fellow XLH-ers are curious. I have quite the collection of canes and walking sticks now, in addition to other tools that I bought for my recovery, as recommended by the PT at the hospital…grabbers, picker-uppers, an extra long shoe horn in a happy shade of yellow and a contraption for putting on socks. I’m ready for a knee replacement or hip replacement when that day comes. It’s an investment into my future.

In my immediate future, however, I need to get ready for a visit from my sister today. Yay! She is fun and funny and we’ll have a great time and the day will go by too fast, I’m sure. I plan to take her out to eat tonight at a restaurant that serves THE best hamburgers, according to my hamburger-eating friends. I don’t eat hamburgers so I have to rely on their recommendations. My sister loves hamburgers and will insist, as she should, that her husband makes the best hamburgers, in the cast iron panini pan that I gave them, but she will at least get a taste of the second-best hamburger tonight.

Time to polish up my cane for a night out on the town.

 

Copyright 2019, S.G. Hunter and Banjogrrldiaries

Happy XLH Awareness Day!

“Your back is a mess. But I guess you knew that, didn’t you?”

I love it when a doctor is brutally honest. “I had a feeling. Don’t sugar coat it, doctor.”

“I can’t sugar coat this. Look here.” My new neurologist showed me the results of my MRI. I felt like I was looking into a very dark cave. As he moved along my spinal canal, what was light (showing where the nerves and spinal fluid were inside the canal), became almost instantly dark (meaning the canal was almost closed off).

I’m no MRI or x-Ray technician, but even I could see this was a problem and could explain the numbness and tingling in my legs and feet.

He followed up with, “We’ve got to fix this. You need surgery.”

I said, “What would happen if I didn’t have surgery?” I always like to explore other options that don’t involve hospitals, anesthesia, sharp surgical instruments and large medical bills.

“You would become dysfunctional as far as walking is concerned.”

When I relayed this conversation to a friend of mine, at this point she said, “What about tap dancing? Would you still be able to tap dance?” We both laughed at this thought, me with my “mess of a back” and she, sporting her new hip brace, which hopefully will keep her hip replacement from popping out of its socket for a THIRD time! She and I have, in the last few years, bonded over our bone woes. Her wry sense of humor has been a ray of sunlight. We’re both at a point of laughing to keep from crying, I think.

Losing my ability to walk has, for many years, been one of my greatest fears. Somewhere deep inside inside me there still resides that little girl who had to wear leg braces for a year, and I suppose the braces have left an indelible mark on my psyche. The doctor got my attention when he told me I could lose my ability to walk. I felt no need to seek a second opinion, after seeing those MRI results. Even my untrained eye can spot a “mess.”

So, as I write this on the eve on my back surgery, I’m thinking about my fellow XLH-ers who have been through countless surgeries and procedures that are also directly related to XLH. This coming Sunday, June 23, is XLH Awareness Day. Those of us with XLH are already “aware” of XLH every day, if not every minute of every day. I’ve considered “coming out” as an XLH-er since most people that I know are not aware that “I have this bone thing.” I usually prefer not to discuss it, though, since it takes a lot of energy to explain it and even more to not react to insensitive comments. People can say the stupidest things and I can only restrain myself so much.

On the other hand, simply raising awareness might help to ensure children are diagnosed early enough to do something about it. If they can get this new drug (Crysvita) early enough in their lives, then maybe they won’t have to deal with all the medical problems that those around my age are having to deal with. That would be a great thing!

It’s nice to think that some day, a future XLH-er won’t have to be faced with the possibility of giving up their tap dancing due to a bad back or feet or legs. (And in the interest of full disclosure, I do not tap dance, ballroom dance or break dance but I have been known to attempt to dance in the privacy of my home while playing loud music.)

Happy XLH Awareness Day!

 

Copyright 2019 S. G. Hunter and Banjogrrldiaries

Taking a break

So, I still haven’t recovered from my trip to Denver (see last post), where I did a LOT of walking, including breaking my personal record of steps taken in one day. I’ve had a nagging pain in my right foot since then and I went to the orthopedist last week to get it checked out. Sure enough, I have an insufficiency (stress) fracture in my right foot, almost a “Jones fracture,” according to the doctor. I was not surprised, though. Annoyed, yes; surprised, no. I broke my previous record of daily steps and broke my foot all in one trip.

What did surprise me was the x-ray, which, the doctor pointed out, showed 2 previous fractures in my right foot at sometime in the distant past. I honestly don’t do a great job of interpreting the pain scale very well…I get a pain in my foot and think, “ow, that hurts, so I think I’ll sit down” instead of “yowza, that hurts like the devil, let me go to the doctor.” The difference between 🤨 and 😱. I’m learning, though, to interpret those pains and rely on a doctor’s wisdom (“stay off your feet, wear a hard inflexible shoe for a few weeks”) as I age. I guess it’s about time.

The GREAT NEWS about this is that after one month of my right foot hurting and being broken, the x-ray showed that it is healing. I attribute this to the study drug that I’ve been on for 2.5 years, which was called KRN23, then Burosumab and now, commercially known as Crysvita. When my left foot broke about 4 years ago, the pain went on for months and even the orthopedist said, “well, it’s healing, but it’s taking its own sweet time.” At that time, I had just started the “old” treatment of phosphorous and calcitriol. It eventually healed, but still hurts at times, which the orthopedist said would always be the case. Feet get a lot of abuse.

But, in my opinion, my right foot is healing at a much faster rate, thank goodness. I’m trying to be kind to it. Fortunately, the only activities I do that require being on my feet are fishing. So, lucky for me, I caught this trout a couple weeks ago on the sixth cast, and then immediately stopped fishing and rested, to give my feet a “break.” Well, really, it was to give the fish a break. I only needed one fish for dinner, no more.

Copyright 2018 Banjogrrldiaries and S.G. Hunter, All Rights Reserved.

Step(s) Count

I am feeling pretty pleased with myself this evening. I am on a short vacation with Professorgrrl in Denver, CO, and today I reached a new all-time high in the number of steps I took in one day. Over 15,000!

I have been counting steps with my little Samsung phone health app for about 2 years, and my daily goal is 6,000 steps. I feel like that’s a good goal for me because it’s attainable and for the last two months I have reached it almost every day. I know that the experts, whoever they are, say that 10,000 steps are a better goal but when you have some physical limitations, as many folks with XLH have, and many much worse than mine, it’s good to have attainable goals. I rarely go over 8,000 steps a day.

Today, though, we toured the Denver Botanic Gardens and also went to a Colorado Rockies baseball game and we travelled by bus and on foot. Add a little bit of getting lost or turned around, and by the end of this day, I have walked over 15,000 steps. Don’t get me wrong…my feet and knees are killing me and all the other bones below my navel are complaining, too. I have increased my nightly dose of pain meds tonight, knowing that all those old bones will still be mad at me in the morning.

However, let me just say that I honestly don’t think I could have done all this without the help of the trial drug. (Yes, I’m still in the XLH drug trial.) If nothing else, it gives me energy to keep going. It’s not a cure, and it doesn’t reverse the damage that 56 years of living with XLH did before I started it, but my energy level has increased which has helped me to be more determined to keep being as physically active as I can.

My drug trial will end in September. Honestly, I am worried. I am worried that my insurance will refuse to cover it. I’m worried that they will only cover a small part of it and my copayment will be ridiculously expensive. I’m worried that families with children who have XLH will not be able to afford it and children with XLH really should have access to this medication. I am a little bit of a worrier anyway, but given the state of healthcare in the USA, I don’t think I’m over-reacting here. I hope that the powers who control us and our health (insurance, government, medical people) realize that a middle-aged adult who can still work and be physically active thanks to a monthly injection is a value to our society rather than a burden. I am a hopeful worrier.

In the meantime, and for the next few months, at least, I will continue to plug along, continue to walk (my new shoes, New Balance 880’s have helped!), continue to aim for those “badges” and positive affirmations from my Samsung phone health app (“You did it! You reached your step target with time to spare!) and continue to be hopeful that we XLH’ers will get the medicine we need to keep on keeping on.

 

Copyright 2018, S.G. Hunter and Banjogrrldiaries

Another One Bites the Dust…

 

…pun intended!

Tooth #4 is no longer a pain, because it’s GONE! Check out the notch in this tooth:

I’ve been dealing with this aggravating tooth for several years. Eventually, the notch got so deep that the nerve was exposed. My dentist tried patching it about 7 years ago and the patch fell out while eating a bowl of chicken soup a short time later. He patched it again, and that patch fell out, too. So, we just kept an eye on it until a few weeks ago when it really started bothering me. I was actually glad when he told me about three weeks ago that he recommended extraction. There was also quite a bit of bone loss in the gums around it, so it was not going to make it. I thought it would be better to have it professionally extracted rather than do like my uncle, who pulled his own teeth. (I previously blogged about him a few years ago.) I may be crazy but not THAT crazy.

I feel fortunate that my dentist is the THE BEST Novocain injector (or whatever you call that) on the planet. I hardly felt a thing. Until I went to the checkout counter to pay my bill. I felt that.

I know many of you XLH-ers can relate to the tooth problems I’ve had. It’s an aggravation, isn’t it? Not to mention what it does to your self-esteem. And ability to eat. And bank account. And the smile factor. Sigh.

As I’ve said before, though, I love mashed potatoes. In fact, that’s what I ate for dinner Wednesday night. They were so good. Last night I ate a bowl of lentil stew, using a recipe from a cookbook called “Eating the Bible,” by Rena Rossner. (Now, THAT  would literally be hard on your teeth!) This lentil stew recipe was inspired by the story of Esau selling his birthright to his brother Jacob, as found in the book of Genesis. The author was then inspired to write a book based on the Jewish foods mentioned in the Hebrew bible, found in the books of Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. Not only did she create recipes for the modern kitchen inspired by these ancient stories, she wrote commentary on each of the stories, based on her research and her reading of the texts both in Hebrew and in English.

It’s  a very meaty book to sink your teeth into. Yeah, I had to say that.

I bet Ms. Rossner would be surprised to learn that a recipe from her book would help a person with a rare disease to eat following a tooth extraction which has limited my ability to eat foods that require even minimal chewing. We’re all so interconnected anymore. Thank you, Ms. Rossner. I will make that recipe again. In fact, I will probably make it even after my gum heals and I can go back to eating some “chewy” things. It was that good! I’m looking forward to the leftovers.

My dentist told me that he believes this is the last tooth I’ll lose. That’s good, because I don’t have many left. I still can’t convince him that I should receive a discount on my cleanings, though. Doesn’t that seem fair to you all? I mean, would you charge the full price of a pedicure to a one-legged person? And my cousin with one eye…should he be required to buy two contact lenses? Why should I pay full price for a cleaning when there are a LOT of gaps in my mouth, mostly in the back which is hard to get to anyway. It’s just not right.

At the very least, I should get a bigger bag of parting gifts when I leave…more toothbrushes, tooth paste, floss and floss threaders and maybe even some sugar-free breath mints and some lip gloss.

And a recipe book for soft foods.

 

Copyright 2017, Banjogrrldiaries and S.G. Hunter. All rights reserved.

 

Come Home Free

Hello fellow XLH-ers!

As a follow up to my September post, the book that I co-wrote, “Come Home Free,” by Hunter Crainshaw, is ON SALE today and tomorrow for .99, Kindle Edition only. Clara, who is one of the main characters in the book, has XLH.

While writing the book, we debated a little bit about whether to include a character with XLH, since it is something that I have. But a writing seminar we attended convinced us it would be okay to do that because, according to the writer who spoke at the seminar, most readers enjoy learning new things. So, it’s okay to “write what you know” if it’s a subject that others might not know about. We XLH-ers know that XLH is a subject that hardly anyone knows anything about, including most doctors. This confirmed our decision to have Clara be a person with XLH.

If you’re a fan of Southern fiction, you might enjoy this book, available through Amazon. You can do a search of “Come Home Free” by Hunter Crainshaw.

Or, you can follow this link: Come Home Free.

Thanks for reading!

Fused roots

Fused Roots!

Now showing at your local movie theater, it is a film about a tooth whose two roots are fused. Can anything save it?!

Rated PG for Premolar Grimness.

Sigh. Yes, I lost another tooth. Tooth #12 on the dental chart. We XLH-ers specialize in dental problems. I think this is the 16th tooth that I’ve had to have pulled, bridged, crowned or “root canal-ed.” Last year, I lost its match on the other side. That one did not have a periodontal ligament, but from what I remember, it did have the usual two roots.

But this one, #12 premolar, had two roots which were fused into one fat one, which contributed to its instability. Of course, we didn’t know it had fused roots until Dr. Tooth extracted it. Prior to the extraction, we discussed whether it was worth saving, not knowing that it had fused roots, since that didn’t show up in the x-Ray. I finally decided that he should pull it, given the history I had with the same one on the other side. So, he pulled it. It hurt. A lot. But it hurt before he pulled it, too.

The over-riding thought that I had throughout this tooth-pulling ordeal was how lucky I was. Lucky, you might ask?

On Friday morning when I realized that the growing pain I’d had all week in my mouth was coming from one particular tooth, I thought, “How unlucky am I? It’s Friday and I have a dental emergency and they’re closed on Fridays. Not only that, it’s the Friday before Labor Day weekend. I’m going to have a long, rough weekend.”

I called the office, though, because I was concerned. When I pressed the appropriate button for “true dental emergency,” MY dentist, out of the four dentists who work at this practice, answered the phone. MY dentist, Dr. Tooth, was on call for the long weekend! How lucky was THAT! I couldn’t believe how my bad luck had changed with one phone call. All I really wanted was his advice, but after we chatted, we agreed to meet at the office for him to check it out.

When I think of the many medical professionals I’ve entrusted myself to over the years, Dr. Tooth is the one I’ve been the most worried about “losing.” Of course, he deserves to retire one day, and I suppose I could run out of teeth to pull or crown before he retires, at the rate I’m going, but still–the thought of trusting another dentist is nerve-wracking. He is a compassionate man and an excellent dentist. He has a very conservative approach to dentistry and doesn’t try to sell me some product that will whiten, brighten and glamorize my smile. He’s old school. I like old school.

So my movie, “Fused Roots,” starring me, has a happy ending for now. The pain is gone. The source of the pain is gone. And my dentist was there for me.

Stay tuned for the sequel: “Fused Roots II: The Invoice Arrival.” I’m sure it will be a shocker.

Copyright 2015, Banjogrrldiaries and S.G. Hunter

Come Home Free by Hunter Crainshaw

Today I have a very short post. For several years, I have been co-writing a book of fiction. You might describe it as literary fiction or Southern fiction.

It is finally available on Amazon in an electronic format for $4.99. The paper version will be available in a couple weeks, we hope. Here’s the link to the book: Come Home Free.

The reason I am posting it on my XLH blog is because Clara, one of the narrators, has a mild case of XLH and some of you might find that interesting. I hope it will help to raise some awareness of the disorder, anyway. But the story does not make the XLH a focal point, in my opinion.

For any readers who grew up in the Christian faith, you might recognize many of the biblical references scattered throughout the book. For my Jewish readers, you will notice that most of the biblical references are from the the Old Testament, or Hebrew Bible. Most of the characters who are in the book are Southern and Lutheran.

So, if you like a good trashy romance novel, you will NOT like this book! In our book there is mystery, humor, faith and hope in good measure, but no trash!

The book is “Come Home Free” by Hunter Crainshaw and we hope you’ll give it a read.

Happy belated 25th birthday, ADA!

Last Sunday, July 26, 2015, was the 25th birthday of the Americans with Disabilities Act. President George H. W. Bush signed this law into effect on July 26th, 1990 as a civil rights bill for Americans with disabilities. The law is many pages long, but if you’d like to read about it, go to ada.gov.

Of course, passing laws does not necessarily make people better citizens. I still see people break the speed limit and run through stop signs on a daily basis. The ADA, though, has made people more aware of folks who have both physical and mental disabilities. Thank goodness for that! Physically disabled people now have better and easier access to public places. Congress listed in their “findings” several things which inspired them to create this law. For example, they found that:  discrimination against individuals with disabilities persists in such critical areas as employment, housing, public accommodations, education, transportation, communication, recreation, institutionalization, health services, voting, and access to public services.

The bill was/is an attempt to eliminate these kinds of discrimination, among other things. You can legislate some things, but you cannot legislate kindness. I know someone, for example, who had to threaten to stop taking her mother to a particular beauty salon because of the lack of kindness showed to her mother when she would roll in on her walker to the salon. The beauty salon conformed to the ADA standards by having a nice ramp up to the back door, with adequate parking for those with a handicap sign. Unfortunately, the hair stylists there like to gather out by the back door to smoke and eat their lunches, and were not very accommodating as she tried to get through the heavy door, roll through the tiny break room and into the salon area. One time the way was blocked by several boxes of hair products in the hallway, making it too narrow to pass through with a walker. My friend felt that the best approach to handle this was not to “call the authorities” and report this, using the “ADA” word. Instead, she told her mother’s hair stylist who was furious and as far as I know, this has not been a problem since then.  But you still can’t legislate kindness and manners. Somebody’s mama and/or daddy has to teach their children some manners.

I want to focus on the “recreation” part of this finding (quoted above) by Congress. In December 2012, I wrote to my neighborhood association’s president and asked him if they (the board) could approach our city about doing some sidewalk repairs. Oh yes, he replied, the board had discussed this and had plans to work on this and would remind the person who was in charge of this. I never heard another word, but I did continue to wonder if anything would come of it.

There are several places in the neighborhood where tree roots in the medians have lifted up the sidewalk sections so high that a wheelchair or baby stroller would not go over it safely. If you were not paying attention, or had limited eyesight or it was at night, it would be very easy to trip over these sections. They’re unsafe.

When I was reminded this week that the ADA was celebrating its 25th birthday, I decided I would skip the middleman (the neighborhood association) and contact the city myself. Professorgrrl found that contact person for me online. (Thanks, Professorgrrl!)

I wrote the man in charge of city sidewalks, not expecting an answer any time soon. Oh me of little faith! He wrote back less than 12 hours later and asked me to send him the addresses of those places where the sidewalks are dangerous. A couple days later, I sent him a list of 8 places. And yesterday, less than two weeks later, he had been out and marked the places with cones and had the crews pull up the sidewalk sections for their “tree man” to take a look and see if anything can be done with those roots that are pushing up the sidewalks. How’s that for progress? Skip the middleman, I say.

Now, I will admit, a case could be made that my asking for these sidewalks to be repaired was a bit self-serving. There is certainly some truth in that. In 2012, though, when I initially wrote the neighborhood board president, it was because an able-bodied neighbor tripped over an uneven sidewalk section and became temporarily NOT able-bodied. And, when I wrote the board in 2012, I had no idea that almost three years later, I would be walking “nordic style” due to a fractured foot. Because of my own experiences, I felt an even more urgent need to seek some help from the city. As they say, “there but by the grace of God, go I.” It can happen to anybody. One day you’re walking, the next day you’re not. Or in my case, one day you’re waddling, the next day, you’re waddling more. In an instant, someone’s ability can change. I am lucky, in that I’ve always known deep inside of my potential for disability, that would come over a period of time. For my neighbor who tripped on a sidewalk, it was an instant. For my mother, who fell three months ago and popped her artificial hip out of joint, it was an instant. A painful instant. She is still recovering. I don’t wish this on anyone of my neighbors, even the ones who irritate me! (And, incidentally, my mother tripped over an uneven sidewalk many years ago and broke her knee. She was much younger and more able-bodied then, but accidents do happen, even to the young and able-bodied.)

All this has reminded me. Sometimes, you only have to ask. And you might get lucky and receive!

Copyright 2015, Banjogrrldiaries