I haven’t been able to stabilize my health symptoms in the eight months since my flair began. I’ve been cautious with how much I share because I don’t want to seem dramatic or alarm anyone. In truth, I legitimately haven’t known how to categorize myself lately. All signs have pointed to one word— and if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck… it’s probably a duck. This week I received my accessible parking placard, and I realized I am disabled, meaning I’m unable to complete “normal” tasks without modifications or assistance.
It began over a month ago when I realized I couldn’t complete a trip to the grocery store without using my inhaler. I stopped bringing my children with me, kept the inhaler handy and just saved grocery shopping for weekends when I could crash when I got home. Realizing this wasn’t OK, I brought it to my PCP’s attention. We looked over my current conditions (I have POTS, mitral valve prolapse, arrhythmias, activity induced asthma and easily subluxating hips). We agreed I should get a placard and choose a modification for shopping. The goal was a safe shopping trip, whatever works. He strongly suggested I use the provided electric carts, but since not all places have this option, I am experimenting with a hip brace and cane combination. Before I found these aids, I tried grinning and bearing it through outings, just to load my belongings and sit in the parking lot for 15 minutes while I caught my breath.
I thought this was normal.
Like the sketch I’m sharing today (below) I feel as though I’m held together with stitches — but stronger than ever. I feel blue because of how my blood pools in my feet and I lose my breath while walking. My eyes are covered, symbolizing the black outs, blurry vision and foggy mind I deal with daily. I’m wearing house slippers and sweats because these are the clothes I spend most of my days in… but I am Super Woman, nevertheless. I am mighty because I choose to use my situation to connect with others and practice gentle resilience.
Disabled doesn’t feel the way I thought disabled would feel. Why? Because I had this picture in my head of my whole life coming to a halt — that, to me, was disabled. But instead, I have resources. Modifying my lifestyle, while it’s still unknown territory, has opened many doors to opportunities I was missing out on.
So what if I’m 28 with a cane? So what if I get weird looks parking in an accessible spot? So what if I’m still seeing specialists and still receiving diagnoses? It’s a journey; I’m tired of waiting for the end of the story before I share the truth. Today I am disabled, but I won’t let that stop me from living and pursuing solutions… and I figure that’s pretty mighty.
Tab Moura is an advocate for the sick and underprivileged, public speaker on emotional intelligence, artist, emotional coach, mentor and coffee buddy. Living with EDS, Hypotonia, POTS, MVP and Endometriosis, raising kids with ASD, Apraxia and EDS, it's always an adventure in their household. Feel free to message her and request articles on topics that you want to hear more about!
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