Sunday, July 8
Ask Me, Not Others
When you have a disability people don't like to be direct with you. I'm not sure if its the same with every kind of disability but its true of mine. Because we are all still so very British in attitude, people don't like to ask me why I'm in a chair, so they rarely do even though I'm sure that they are interested. The other extreme being they are direct to the point of rudeness. Although I don't really care for either approach, the worst thing is when, instead of talking to me, my husband gets asked instead. This happened yesterday as we were chatting with a few people we hadn't met before. You know how it goes, where do you live, where did you live, do you work, etc, we all get the measure of each other. I've also just noticed that I hardly ever get asked the work question anymore. But I digress. As it was assumed I was out of earshot, I heard the lady in question asking my husband about me. Now he hates being asked this for many reasons, he never knows what to say, doesn't like talking for me, doesn't know what I want people to know and really hes rather private as a person, and doesn't like nosey questions. He doesn't thank people for personal intrusions as he sees it. So I spin round and take over the conversations with all the gory details, by which point she doesn't know what to say! Times like this I wish I had the nerve to use a bizarre and frankly unbelievable story just for devilment, but Ive never quite been able to bring myself to do it. Well the moral of this is, its fine to ask me really, but don't ask others to speak for me OK?