Disability Days

Choosing to go on disability was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. Despite having a preceptor student and helpful, considerate co-workers, I just could not keep up with the walking needed for my job. Every day the walk from the parking lot to the unit felt ten steps longer, and hauling myself out of a chair to answer a call bell took increasing amount of effort. Moreover, I did not have the concentration I needed to make it through the 7.75 hours in my shift. I focused on: when can I take more Tylenol, where can I position myself for minimal walking, how can I get my patients to stop asking why I am using a crutch, what should I do with my crutch when I enter an isolation room...

I was forced to call in sick more frequently, and I hate calling in sick. I hate abandoning my co-workers and leaving them short-shifted. One day I had to leave work early because of pain. On the drive home the decision hit me: it was time to go on disability. The decision came both as a relief and a heart-break. I used up my sick days, filled in the necessary paperwork, and officially began my life as a person with a disability at the end of January, two months before I found out my surgery date.

The suddenness of my transition from full-time work to full-time waiting for surgery was, and continues to be, incredibly tough. I really love my job. I am really good at my job. No one can wrangle a demented person into bed like I can! There is a reason I have the nickname 'dementia whisperer!' I take a lot of pride in the way I pour myself into my work, and I (usually) genuinely enjoy patient contact.  I miss feeling like I get to make someone's day better - to lose that sense of purpose and validation is devastating. In short, I miss my job and the human interactions I'm privileged to.

Actually, being disabled is much more difficult than I thought it would be. Initially I thought- so what if I can't walk, I can still do things. But think about something like a trip to the mall and the number of steps it requires: first, walk from the car to mall entrance. Next, go to two of your favourite stores which happen to be on opposite sides of the mall. Walk the length of the mall twice. Take a bathroom break and walk up to the bathroom holding your heavy parcel in your non-crutch hand. Finally, make the long walk back to your car. Simple outings require planning and lots of energy.

One thing I really like doing is going out for coffee. It's a nice, simple way to get a change of scenery, but it's somewhat of an ordeal. First of all I have to secure a seat, and then I have to find a good place to position my crutch. It always falls over and makes a loud bang. Always. And it catches on other peoples' backpacks and jackets easily, too. One time a man accidentally knocked it over and he was so horrified at himself that he literally sprinted away from me. Leaving the coffee shop is probably the most mortifying part of all my outings: in one hand I have my crutch and in the other hand I hold my purse, a hot beverage, and my bag of activities. I have to pull the door open with my crutch hand while dangling my crutch from my forearm, and then wedge my body into the door to prop it open - then I squeeze my limping bad side through the door and try to escape the door before it closes on my crutch. Very awkward.

About a month ago Dan and I rented a wheelchair from Blue Cross so I could do some longer excursions and "walks" outside. It's so nice to go outside after a long winter, but being pushed by someone else almost feels like defeat; it is the ultimate surrender of all my physical independence. Every look I receive is mingled with surprise (at my age) and pity. Wow: I am pitiable. What a very weird way to view myself.

My disability days have taught me a lot about the challenges so many people with visible and invisible disabilities face. If I didn't have Dan or nearby family, how would I shovel the sidewalk? What would I eat and who would cook it? How would my summer tires get out of the garage and into my car? How would I vacuum, load laundry into the dryer, or even get out of the bathtub on a really sore day? I'm lucky because my disability has an end date in sight, and for that I am grateful.