My friend Kelly recently watched YouTubers make videos on “25 things you didn’t know about me.” She recommended I do a blog on this subject, suggesting that my readers would enjoy learning tidbits about me. So, I started with a blank page, like beginning with a chunk of clay, theoretically spinning it on a potter’s wheel, molding it into ideas. I feverishly scraped the edge of the clay with a wooden tool that put squiggles into the medium to give interpretations of goals. Finally, I added a glaze to seal in all the adjectives and nouns to make this bowl of paragraphs enjoyable for your viewing pleasure. 

1. They held me back in the third grade because they learned I had dyslexia.
2. Throughout my middle school years, I played the clarinet.
3. My life from 11 to 18 years old was a very active Boy Scout troop.
4. At 13, I returned home from a Boy Scout camping trip to an empty, locked house as my parents had moved without telling me. I waited problematically perplexed for an hour before someone thankfully came and got me.
5. I worked at a Boy Scout summer camp starting at 14 for five of the most incredible summers of my life. If money was no object, I could have worked there for decades.
6. From 11 to 18, I was an avid bicycle rider who rode bikes with my best friend, Mike, all over town. I could have ridden like that for decades if time was no object.
7. I have always loved Mother Nature, and at 15, I chose to go backpacking in the Rocky Mountains for twelve days over going to Disney World.
8. I became an Eagle Scout at 17 after an 8-year Boy Scout adventure.
9. One month after High School, I got married.
10. At 19, immediately after high school and freshly married, I shipped off to boot camp for the United States Marine Corps.
11. My job in the Marine Corps was Logistics, Land Support Battalion, AKA Supply for those at the front line.
12. After college, I hopped around working at several different engineering firms until my illness reared its ugly head.
13. I spent one month in Greece living lavita loca like the locals after my Marine Corps discharge.
14. I have only lived in an apartment twice, once for four months before moving into base housing and the other for one year in my hometown.
15. At 25, I bought my first house in my hometown of Columbus, Ohio.
16. One year before my diagnosis at the ripe old age of 26, my wife and I having no children, divorced after six outstanding years of marriage and one not-so-good.
17. Three months after learning to swim without using my legs, I swam 8 miles to raise money for the MSAA.
18. I am a human garbage disposer who will eat any food except grapefruit.
19. As a foodie, I love trying exciting new foods. My motto is “Don’t knock it till you try it.”
20. I love all music from Beethoven to the Beastie Boys, BB King to Elvis the King, and everything in between.
21. I am an introvert, meaning I will not start a conversation with a stranger, but I will talk to you if you start a conversation with me.
22. I love to sing, although I feel I cannot carry a tune.
23. Learning is a hobby, and I watch educational YouTube videos to help with that goal.
24. Making people laugh is a passion of mine. As they say, “If you’re not laughing, you’re crying,” and who wants to cry? 
25. I hate confrontation but refuse to back down and keep my mouth shut, which would keep me out of trouble.

Now you know I am faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. My parents sent me to Earth before my home planet, Krypton, was destroyed and all its inhabitants perished. My earth parents gave me a vast sampling of experiences that made me the well-spoken, good-natured person I am today. Yes, my parents from this planet occasionally messed up, but what earthling has particularly perfect parents?

To know me is to love me.

People often pose queries about the nutshell in me and my multiple sclerosis and wheelchair life. I gladly answer such inquiries as questions are the only way to learn and get the facts over fiction. The alternative is my fear that people will assume and eagerly spread these untruths, giving MS even more of a bad name. This blog entry is a good time for a question-and-answer session to help my readers understand me. Please be aware that these responses are mine alone, and no one should compare me to any other MSer or wheelchair user. These are the most common public questions people ask me and others with multiple sclerosis. 

Why are you in a wheelchair? I am in a wheelchair because I love the accessible parking and bathrooms that ambulatory people usually occupy. The honest answer: They diagnosed me with multiple sclerosis in October 2001, severely and negatively affecting my legs since 2012.

Will you get better and return to how things used to be? There is no known cure for multiple sclerosis, nor is MS contagious or a death sentence. I plan to live my life to the fullest, something I did not do for the first decade and a half, completely losing my thirties and half of my forties.

How did you feel the first time you went public with your wheelchair? I was ashamed and embarrassed, and I felt everyone was staring at me and judging me as if my picture was on a wanted poster because I had robbed a bank. However, that is no longer the case as I move freely in and out of public spaces with mild inconveniences from others.

What are the frustrations of your day? There are disheartening developments in my MS and wheelchair day quite frequently. The most significant issue is how every part of my day is significantly slower, making rushing or spontaneity as likely as seeing a live purple polar bear. Although anything is possible, I doubt I will see a bear of the plum polar variety anytime. I usually feel like a turtle on his back, often struggling to make simple moves.

Are people compassionate or insensitive to you and your wheelchair? People are on a kind spectrum of life that says there are good people, bad people, and everything in between. You have those who are kind and sympathetic and always willing to help. However, some individuals hate themselves and want to tear down others to make them feel as bad. I let negative comments roll off like water off a duck’s back and use my reply to say something positive or smile.

How do you feel about people touching your wheelchair? It depends solely on the purpose or the person, whether a stranger or friend touching my chair. I saw a stranger acting impatiently and pushed my friend Jim away from the grocery shelf as Jim lingered for ten seconds too long. I do not hesitate to speak up and even run over their toes.

What are some things you used to take for granted that are more difficult now? Moving through life, I did not have to think before my seated situation started. Without thinking, I could quickly wake up, get out of bed, get dressed, and put on shoes without help. Now I have to think and plan where I am going and ask questions like, is it accessible? There are so many questions I must answer pre-event now.

Do strangers ever stare at you or ask you strange questions? Some people stare, but I smile at them and say hello, sometimes sparking conversations. I occasionally get odd questions, but I do not mind, as it is better to ask and not assume. It is better to spread facts and not falsehood. 

Do you get mad when you see ambulatory people being lazy? Occasionally, I have a few things, like how some individuals shuffle and do not pick up their feet. Although these people can walk normally, they shuffle their feet like downtrend zombies. It drives me bonkers, but I keep it to myself and say nothing when I see or hear it.

How do you feel when someone says you’re an inspiration? If you meet me on the street and instantly tell me I am an inspiration without knowing me, that is simply pandering. I am not an inspiration for merely existing; genetics does not make me an inspirational person, so give me a chance to earn that word. It makes me feel you are saying; I am glad I am not in your shoes as if I am less than.

As a person with multiple sclerosis and in a wheelchair, I hope this shows I want respect like everyone else. I do not wish to be treated with kid gloves or talked down to like a kindergartener trapped in an adult body. You may use your legs to ambulate, but I use my arms to propel me through life and want equality. People with disabilities worldwide want understanding, compassion, and, most of all, respect.

I use a wheelchair. It is not who I am. It is just how I get around.

I carefully took this classic blog and reworked it into a delicious masterpiece. Like making wine from yesteryear, I stomped and stamped every sentence, squashing adjectives and nouns to create a vintage blog you can decanter and enjoy. Like making a cheese and fruit plate, I carefully picked and plucked every sentence like the perfect figs and apricots to make the paragraphs pair well and encourage understanding. Last, I cautiously sliced every verb and adverb, like the best cheese for this platter of comprehension. Please enjoy my ramblings and learn something from yesteryear.

A slow death…

When my friends and I were younger, we made fun of the elders who made statements about how life used to be. These older people would say things like “When I was your age,” or “Back in my day,” or even “When I was a kid.” Now that I am more mature, I frequently make those same comments to the younger people around me. So if you are older, you can laugh at this essay because you have said it. On the other hand, if you are a younger individual, you can roll your eyes just as I did back in my day.

Now that I have become older, I have seen the handshake’s significance seriously slip. I disappointingly realize that society has debased and devalued the meaning of a handshake, losing its importance. Disturbingly, most times, a simple fist bump or basic head nod with no genuine intention has replaced the once-valued handshake. NOTE: I understand fist bumping is necessary during cold and flu season. I am not insensitive.

When I meet a person for the first time, I reach out with an outstretched hand to signify the proper etiquette of a bygone era. Individuals who do not know me often have given me the fingertip handshake. This practice annoyed me greatly because of my feelings toward proper protocol procedures. I soon realized that people unfamiliar with me fear the unknown and think I might share my illness from contact, like passing poison ivy. These individuals also do not know what they do not know and fear a handshake with my wheeled brethren and me.

My friend Terry recently introduced me to Jill, and it did not go as a first-time handshake should have. Jill took my outstretched hand and quickly did a half shake in the downward motion and promptly dropped it like it was on fire. It felt like the cross between a half handshake and a let-go, Scott. I do not want to catch your cooties! Did she honestly think that way? Probably not, but feeling rejected for something I had no control over was hurtful.

They told me many years ago that your word is your bond, and the handshake seals the deal. Now it seems your word and handshake no longer have trust, honesty, and faith to stand behind them. The phrase my handshake is my bond is now the punchline of a joke bringing comedy, not conviction. I do not feel we limit this loss to wheelchair users, as this etiquette of yesteryear dies a slow death.

RIP: Handshake. You stood firm for so long.