Disabled vs. Challenged
A discussion between Lindsay and I this morning got some of the brainybits moving. We were talking about an article (she’ll post a link later, I’m not stealing that thunder) about a woman who is an advocate for people with chronic illnesses to find ways to stay in the workforce.
I am lucky enough (::knock on wood::) that my physical limitations have yet to lose me a job. That being said, they’ve come damned close, and that makes me wonder if it’s “fair” (a word that I really dislike using, as fair relates [in the Tao of Nix] to the universe’s constantly ebbing and flowing balance of positive and negative – by claiming something is “unfair,” I [at least partially] believe that you are making a judgment, something that is not your privilege to do, and are therefore creating an unnatural addition of negative) to have come so close to unemployment due to a physical condition that I can only attempt to keep in check. I didn’t CHOOSE to have Fibro, nor is there any sort of magical pill or exercise or surgery that I can have to fix the problem.
That brings us to the subject of this post. WAY too many people with chronic illnesses end up on disability. Why is this acceptable? 95% of the time, I am a valuable asset to any job. I’m an extremely hard worker, I’m honest, and as long as my body cooperates, I’m reliable. My needs for the occasional extra days off would be met, only if I were to label myself as “disabled,” something that I am simply not willing to do. I do NOT accept that I am disabled. If a label is required, I’m moderately challenged.
Where do we draw the line between useful and not? Why do we feel the need to have only one or the other? I don’t want cash or medical assistance from the government, but if I find myself unable to keep a job because my employer can’t (or is unwilling to) accept that my condition will sometimes keep me from being able to work, what other option do I have?
As I told Lindsay, I’m not sure where I’m going with all of this. Part of me is angry that something that I can’t control is in some ways held against me, but another part of me tells me what I tell other people when they offer sympathies: I’m SO grateful that I have legs to ache, I have joints to hurt. Sometimes we have to remember that for other people to take our illnesses seriously, we have to do the same from within.
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