Has this ever happened to you?

I went to the store yesterday, I had a bit of a long list; the typical time to stock up for the month/I got paid type day. So I had a fair number of bags but nothing was to heavy, and I'd been smart and wore my big brace. I will never understand why the parking lot slopes down towards the store, given the heavy rains we get during monsoon season, but it means unless I get a front spot or take family with me (my son is excellet for this job!) it's a long push up-hill to the car. But my cart wasn't to heavy so I was able to muscle through, and the brace was definately a big plus.

The bags were easily unloaded into my car, and after I shut the door it was then I realized there wasn't a cart return place to be seen anywhere. But there was a sidewalk with a curb area infront of my car, and as I watched, the couple (close in age I would say) rolled their cart towards that island, and put the two front wheels up on the curb. The basket was out of the way, and wasn't going anywhere. I figured I'd follow suit, but by now I didn't have enough muscle to pop the front end of the cart up. I tried lifting, but again I was just to tired at this point. So I did something I'm not want to do, and I turned to ask a stranger for help.

I must stop for a second. I do not like being reminded of my disabled status, but asking for help with my family is becoming easy as it's almost always an every day thing. Case in point, my Mom didn't ask, she just helped me make my son's bed yesterday. I didn't argue, I was grateful and told her so as she watched me struggle to get a corner of the fitted sheet into place. So you can imagine I am loathe to ask a stranger for help, especially given I was alone this day. Now I always carry my big knife in my glovebox, and frequently because of state laws, I do open carry my pistol, but not today. But after growing put with a neurotic Mom about stranger danger, and being alone, and those roadside kiddnappings, etc, it sticks with you even into your adult life. I felt like I was making myself appear weak, and given I was alone, a victim.  But what am I going to do? I needed some help.

So I turned to the couple and asked. "Excuse me, could I trouble one of you for some help with the cart, please?" Nothing. I cleared my throat and raised the volume of my voice, "Excuse me, sir, could I get a hand, please?" It was then I noticed the distinct lack of eye contact as they hurridly got into their car and practically slammed their doors. Once inside they seemed to take their time again, but continued to refuse to look strait ahead out their windshield at me. We weren't the only ones in the lot, there was one old man pushing his cart up the aisle, and another who'd just parked his truck. He'd gotten out two spaces over from them as I'd asked the second time. So I turned to him. (We have a high senior population in our city) and I posed the same question towards him, kicking the volume up a notch again. He just kept walking down the sidewalk towards the front of the building.

I was hurt. I had asked for help and no one had listened, no one heard me. I was sure the couple in the car had heard me, but just choose to ignore me. I wanted to cry I was so hurt and angery. I finally got around the front of the cart and took my frustration out on it and muscled it up onto the curb. My thumb felt jammed afterwards and my arm was going numb in spots what parts didn't feel blazing hot and smashed with a sledgehammer.

As I drove home I wondered what did people see when they looked at me? Why do more and more people choose not to help? Were they affraid I was some derranged psycotic that was going to try and hurt one of them there in the middle of the parking lot in the middle of the day? I would have loved to have been able to see into their mind, see what they were thinking and why. All it did was reinforce my negative feelings about society and why I now rarely leave the house. I have been described as "athletic" looking, though I don't see how. Yes my legs are in good shape, but my arms don't have the tone they used to. I know I'm carrying about 10 extra pounds, but it's well distributed about my body. I like my jeans and boots. Skinny jeans with calf hugging chunky heeled boots, or my slouchy engineer style flat boots. T-shirts, thermal henleys, sweaters, tank tops.... yesterday I wore a simple grey v-neck t-shirt over my pale blue skinny jeans, and my all time favorite blood-red leather jacket. My hair is a medium reddish-brown, but my bangs are bright white. I wear small rectangular glasses, though at the time I had my sunglasses on. I'm just trying to figure if I looked intimidating, or if like Dani's post commented ... society would rather not acknowledge those of us who suffer from CP.

I tried to take some time and think this over from every aspect, and I guess the reason it hurts, emotionally, so much is because ... that's not me.

I am the person that when I see someone having difficulty pulling something off the shelf, will try to scale it and get it down for them. I am the person that will reach the bottom shelf for the person who can not bend down there. I am the person that will try to grab the fly-away documents before other's drive over them.

I am also the person that will stop at the scene of an accident, surrender my plans for the day, all so I can help another. I did that once. Years ago I was on my way to go horseback riding when we came across the scene of a horrid accident. One driver was trapped in their up-side down vehicle, unconcious, the other had been ejected out her window and was face down in the dirt. I remember I sat with her, trying to keep her concious and calm till the EMT's arrived, while the person I was supposed to go riding with kept trying to get to the gentleman.

I have a letter in my file cabinent from the little town of Alamo, Utah... or is it Nevada, I forget. There were four of us on our way up to Utah to get hay for the ranch; my boss, our busines partner, myself, and my partner. There was a horrible accident in the middle of the road involving a minivan. To see it yu'd think all their posessions were strewn across both lanes until you realized they were children! I guess the mother lost control and rolled her vehicle, and everyone was ejected; posessions and children alike. Our business partner got onto the shoulder and was just going to squeeze past so we could be on our way, and our boss was going to follow suit. Having both been trained in emergency responce, CPR, and first aid responders, as soon as the bosses truck slowed enough both my partner and I bailed. We did all we could till the EMT's arrived. Alamo is such a small town their Ambulance crew is all volunteer. They took me with them in the ambulance as I was some how manaing to keep two of the kids quiet, and spent the day at the gas station diner waiting for my co-workers to come back. Their crew was so grateful anything I wanted was comp'd, and they even paid for all four of us to have dinner at the local restaurant. Later I would get a letter in the mail, thanking and commending us for our aid that day. We didn't do it for money or glory, we did it because that was just the kind of peole we were.

In a day and age when society has gotten sue-happy over the stupidest thing not even the Good Samaritan is free to avoid people's greed, and of course then there's all their scary people that will fake accidents jsut to lure victims to rape or kill.

But I was raised to believe in doing the right thing, because if for no other reason then you'll sleep better at night knowing you did all you could to help someone else. No one seems to remember that anymore. What happened to all those commercials about helping others, pass it on? I guess that must be when people get up to use the restroom or get a snack. 

I hadn't even thought to have someone help me load up my car. Almost everything I had was light. If I get alot of heavy things, or even one or two heavy things, I try to ask for help. I know I'm gonna get the stare for a moment or two. If you watch their facial expressions you can see the momentary look of incredulous. When you don't look disabled people always think the worst of you. That's part of the reason I always wear my neoprene arm brace (it covers from my knuckles down to two thirds of my forearm) when I go to the store... so that at least when they give me the once over they see /something/.

What ever happened to that Golden Rule. I remember it clearly in bold itallic lettering over the door to my classroom in 3rd Grade, and teach my son the same thing:

"Treat others as you would wish them to treat you."

Or as we used to say in Sunday School:

"Do unto others, as you would have others do unto you."

I will never stop helping others. Though I may not get treated the same, it does not excuse how I would feel if I knew I intentionally closed my ears and turned a deaf ear on someone in need.

Post Edited (Draka) : 3/25/2011 11:49:41 PM (GMT-6)