Wednesday, March 10, 2010

A momentous 200th post, Partly Part 4

I realised the other day that my ‘Tragedy’ story is far from finished when Allie, well, told me so! It’s a long story but, I guess, the thing that I haven’t reached yet, in the telling of it, is the crunch.

You see, while I spoke in Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 about the acute happenings (and that story is far from finished) of that fateful day in 1996, I didn’t get to the bottom line. So, because this is my 200th post, I’m skipping to the last page of that book, and I’ll fill in the rest, um, sometime later. Deep breath.

I am paralysed. Quadriplegic. I am in a wheelchair. I can move my arms, but not my fingers. I can move my shoulders, but not my legs. I can feel from a line just above my boobs and up, but nothing below that. I need help with most things.


I can breathe. I can think. I can speak. I can see, and smell, and hear. I can love. And I do.

I have avoided this blog post for all this time maybe because I wanted to keep my head buried in the sand. I don’t think that’s it, though. It was (and is) more the fact that, in my everyday dealings with people, the wheelchair is the first thing they see (and forgive me, I am generalising hugely here). Before they see me, they see the chair and, often, they miss me completely. Here, though, on this page, I am seen. Just me.

It’s like blogs take away the pretty/ugly/scary/torn and broken cover of the book (which we all share, as humanity, just to different degrees and in different ways) and just reveal the beautifully intricate stories inside, without the exterior distractions. It’s like going straight into people’s souls. Thus, my turmoils with the anonymity of it all.

I have never wanted this blog to be a record of my paralysis, or to be stories of the struggles (and happinesses etc) of The L’il Wheelchair Girl (as my friend SJ refers to me), so I’ve not said anything. That’s not what this blog is about. I may, or may not mention it again. It’s part of me, though, and now seems the right time to just be honest. It may explain some of my more cryptic posts. Or not.

I wonder if I should be feeling as if I just took off my skin and dumped it in the corner, revealing my soul beneath, exposed and raw?


I'm so not a blogger said...

Beautiful post.
You are beautiful, wheelchair or not.
and feeling raw and exposed is sometimes a really good thing.

(Robyn - Clive's friend... remember me?)

Anonymous said...

I don't know you. I am a lurker. But for some reason I had already figured out that you were quadriplegic. Not sure how or why. Maybe it's more defining than you imagine? How can it not be really? Love your blog.

Angela said...

No, I had no idea, Shiny. I always thought of you as Shiny, the witty, wise, intelligent, creative, lovely girl, friend of my nieces. I never even want to know what my blog pals look like. It doesn`t interest me much. Also, I can never tell you what people I have spent a whole day with, wore! It is as you say, we "meet" the person underneath the skin, and to me this is the real person.
You are brave, though, and don`t mind me telling you that. I love it how you see that breathing and loving is the main thing. I promise I will not see you any differently from now on. But you are right, people tend to see the chair first, or the scar, or the hump. I tell my pupils when we talk about people all being different, that everyone looks out from inside, so that`s where they should look to find the real person,too.
Love ya, Shiny! Auntie Angela

allie said...


In Blogland, you are to me something like the Avatar person: incased in a larger than life, brightly coloured, super body:
you fly and skip and dance with your words and your wit and your imagination.

Thats what we will always see - thats what brings us back day after day.

How DO you feel after taking the plunge, by the way?

Heather said...

I can understand you not wanting to talk about it, to just be you, the inside and not the woman in the chair.

I am new around here and have no idea about who you are, i do enjoy your blog though and look forward to getting to know you wheelchair or not.

Miranda said...

I love your blog. And you're pretty cool too! Happy 200th post! xxx

Mud in the City said...

Miranda is right - you rock! As we are now Facebook buddies I knew that you were in a wheelchair. But that was a momentary point. An aspect of you. The real you is this one - the one who is cruelly teasing all of us with your tale of fresh love (tee hee!) and writing quite beautifully as well.
But so brave to write about something so difficult.

family Affairs said...

Like anon, I think I guessed some time ago after you wrote about the accident. How brave you are and how wonderful that through your beautiful words your shiny soul gleams through.....and whilst I'm sure it's been a major trauma for you I very often experience complete calm and and a wonderfully positive life attitude after coming over to read your blog. You are amazing and what a story you have to share. I do hope you are not feeling too exposed and that openly telling us has been a sense of release rather than anything else. How brave you are. Lx

Shiny said...

Robyn - of course I remember you, yes! And, thank you.

Anon - I'm so excited about having a lurker, thank you! I'm not sure that I wish to be defined by my wheelchair but, I guess, sometimes you don't get to choose what defines you.

Auntie Angela - wow, what kind words. I, too, never notice what people wear!

Allie - thank you, too. Yip, did feel pretty exposed, but a sense of relief too.

Heather - I look forward to getting to know you too.

Miranda - you're pretty damn cool yourself.

Mud - Oy, yes, that tale needs out too... It's almost as scary, if not more, revealing all of that.

Family Affairs - shoo, thank you