one year ago, i was using a wheelchair. i had covid, and it did serious damage to my circulatory and neurological systems. POTS, FND (the doctors erroneously thought i had ALS or MS at first and that i was going to die relatively shortly, so that was a fun six months), chronic pain, chronic exhaustion, brain fog, heightened anxiety and ADHD - just a big bunch of shit.
one year ago, i thought this was just my life. and i was okay with that. my spouse is well employed and was taking care of me very well. i was still able to work on longform projects like games and my book SLIME TIME, so life was still really good for me. i was happy enough.
one year ago, i was referred to an extremely high-quality physical therapy program here in vancouver, covered by provincial healthcare. at first i was worried about the efficacy of physical therapy on a primarily neurological condition, and how much pain i'd go through in the process. later on, i was worried that i would lose my connection to the disability community if it succeeded too well.
one year ago, i realized that the pain part was worse than i feared. physical therapy was more like torture, but even worse, it worked. i stopped needing the cane just to walk at all, and i left the wheelchair behind me, which compelled me to keep going. some days were worse than others. one time i broke down sobbing and screaming from the pain in the shower after a particularly intense session, but i knew it was worth it.
a few months ago, i started carrying groceries home when my spouse was busy, or hurt, or sick, or whatever. today, i carried one of the heaviest loads i have since i was department head at that fucking kroger i quit in 2022. it's been a few hours - i feel a tiny ache, an echo of an echo of a twinge.
i'm still disabled. some days are worse than others - and when the weather is bad and the temperature is solidly below freezing, i can barely get out of bed. sometimes i'm still too weak or too tired to do anything. sometimes i have to lean on my spouse like i did at the absolute worst of my worst months, back in 2021.
i feel better than i have in years. i retain all the meaningful connections i did when i still needed my wheelchair. it's okay to be disabled, and no-one should feel pressured to try to change things and push through pain like i did, because i had the privilege both of the opportunity and the safety net behind me if and when i failed.
but i just want to say that if there's anything you want to push yourself to do, you can do it. nothing is out of reach if you are determined enough.
one year ago, i never thought i'd walk unassisted.
today, i carried half my body weight home.
thanks for reading.
