Internalized Ableism is Real, People

(As you can probably tell from this super evocative title, this will be an article about showers!)

In the fall of 2016, an occupational therapist visited my apartment to lend me mobility equipment to help me with my daily life. She brought a floor-to-ceiling pole to attach next to my bed, so it would be easier for me to pole-dance get up from my bed. She also brought four blocks to put under the feet of my couch, so it’s raised higher and it, again, makes it easier for me to get up (I forget they’re there until I sit on somebody else’s couch and it takes me about three entire minutes, seven tries and a whole ab workout to pry myself out of it).

And she brought a shower chair.

Remember, this was 2016, I had just started using a rollator a few months previous, was still getting used to being visibly permanently physically disabled. The blocks under my couch were fine, I barely realized they were there, and right from the start I could see how they helped. The pole was acceptable; I still tried to kid myself that I could ignore it if I didn’t want to use it (spoiler alert: I could absolutely not). But my mind drew a line at the shower chair. I could still shower standing up, I didn’t need to sit down! Only old people need to sit while showering, not me! I’m not that disabled!

So I made them take the chair back.

Finding a Balance Between Ease and Necessity

Every so often, I lower my hand next to the chair I’m sitting on and wiggle my fingers in the general direction of my cat. Most of the time she comes running, excited for the free scritches I’m offering. But sometimes I get nothing, so I look over at her, and I can just see her weighing her options while she stares at me. Are my pets worth getting up and leaving her comfortable napping spot for?

And I can relate with that feeling so much. Sometimes it feels like living with ataxia is a constant game of balance (both literally and figuratively), of weighing costs and benefits. Do I really need to get up and pee or can I wait for my alarm clock to go off in two hours? Am I thirsty enough to go get a drink now or do I wait for lunch? If I just sat down at the table and realize I forgot my fork in the kitchen, I seriously consider whether or not I can manage with just a knife and my hands before getting up and getting my fork.