On one hand...or maybe on one foot...

So, as I was working on my lovely disability forms today, a scenario was going through my head.

It's relatively common to open your happy People magazine one day and find an article about a person born with only one limb; or perhaps disfigured in an terrible car accident, who has learned to live with their disability to a point where they've adapted the remaining limb to serve them for everything they need. They can bathe and dress themselves; use the toilet, brush their hair, cook some food, and generally take care of business.

Then, it's inevitable that they've also learned to use that one foot they have to paint masterpieces or play their sonatas on the piano. I don't know--something extraordinary that gets them an article in People magazine and piles of money for their talent.

What the articles don't tell you is that the disabled person HAS to learn to carve castles out of soapstone with his toes to survive because he can't get social security disability.

These forms are bordering on insulting. Can I bathe myself? Yes. Comb my hair? Check. Use the toilet by myself? Hell yes.

Well, odds are that by being able to do all of those things for myself, I'll be SOL on disability. (that's Shit Outta Luck, in case you were wondering) They don't ask if I've learned to get my hair cut in specific ways that are easy for me to blow-dry and style. There's nowhere to mark that I have a big handle in my shower so I can hold on when I lean backwards to wash my hair under the spray. I can even prepare food for myself every day--and sometimes for the kids--but there's a big difference between Pasta Roni with baked chicken, and cutting and chopping veggies for the Asian stir-fry dish that I need to work, hands-on, for the entire cooking time, with homemade pot stickers and dry fried fresh string beans.

Nowhere in the forms are there places to make these distinctions. What if I disclosed honestly on the forms that I went on vacation to Disneyland? Are they going to ask me if I walked or if I was pushed in a wheelchair the whole time, or are they going to immediately assume I must be full of crap when I think I'm disabled?

It's a hell of a strange change in mindset to fill these boogers out. You have to toss all dignity out the window, because you are going to have a natural inclination to try to present yourself in the absolute best light--like writing a resume or something, you're trying to inflate or emphasize how "good" you are, when on these forms, the object is to honestly present how crappy you're really doing, without sounding like you're playing the Dying Swan and whining incessantly.

::sigh::

The latest lymphedema swelling is going down. My hands and fingers are still really seriously shitty, but sometimes I force them to cooperate to do things like type this. They're numb now though, so I should stop. I spent my entire day surfing the Cake Wrecks blog, which provides the maximum giggle factor for my efforts.

And off to bed for me and my numb fingers and droopy eyelids.