Post History

Source: https://writers.stackexchange.com/a/43111
License name: CC BY-SA 3.0
License URL: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/

By not making her a victim.

One friend I had lived most of her life in a wheelchair, had no motor control and would punch and kick her caregiver until her hands and feet were bound to the chair. People pitied her until they met her. She was a sweet, strong lady who could not be described by the word **_disabled_**. She met and married the love of her life, ran a successful business for twenty five years, rode horseback and did what she wanted with her life.

She used mechanical aids, had help but still lived her life. Her parents never treated her like there was anything wrong with her, anything different. She wanted to ride a horse - they never said ‘No, you’re in a wheelchair so you can’t do that.’ They said that they would find a way and they did.

There was one man I knew who decided he was finished because he was in a wheelchair. That decision cost him years of his life.

I know one guy who is one of the most irksome and entitled people I have ever met - insisting that the world adapt to him. It has - within reason. He uses a much larger wheelchair than most and will ream managers out for not having facilities that accommodate him in particular. Yes, you have a ramp, but it should be wider for my chair.

I know one woman who works at a restaurant nearby - clear stroke victim but not a victim. Her right side is essentially dead, so she works with what she has and serves the customers well.

The daughter of a friend of the family suffered a massive stroke while singing opera in Brazil. She was flown home, treated and sent to live with her mother - a retired nurse. Her mother took one look at the wheelchair she had been given, said “There will be no wheelchairs in this house” and threw it away. Her daughter had to move herself - at first flopping like a fish out of water, eventually crawling again. Many months later, she walked. She walks with a slight limp, a small drag to her gait, but she walks. A doctor later told her that with such a massive stroke, nearly half of her brain destroyed, she should have died. He never expected to see someone with so little brain _standing_ in his office.

My suggestion, get to know some people who fit the general mold and talk to them about how they do what you take for granted. How does this person reach for something on the floor? Open a door? Turn on lights?

Most of all, make your witch a woman who is more than just an amputee. Make her cheerful or ironic, kind or angry.

According to my friend who spent four decades in a wheelchair, people who acquire their disability tend to be embittered by it for a period of time which varied from person to person. One recently blind woman she knew was fairly vicious because of the loss of her vision, her fear that her life could never be good again was almost her greatest disability.

Don’t make her a saint either. She is a character with quirks and virtues, vices and habits unique to her. You have chosen to take this person’s vision and legs, so mobility is compromised and vision is gone. She needs to adapt and will hate to depend on others.

If you are including her because you want someone who shares her disability to relate - don’t do it. That defines both the character and the segment of society you wish to include as their disability. That is dismissive and annoying.

Many years ago, I wanted to throttle a newscaster who was reporting the progress of the brave disabled people climbing Mt Ranier. It was a good human interest story, though not really news. He started listing the disabilities represented in that group; some were blind, others deaf, some lame and one was epileptic. I remember yelling “That is not a disability” at the tv.

I have never so regarded it. I met a woman in an elevator once, despondent.

> “What’s wrong?”
> 
> “My son, I just learned he’s disabled. You don’t understand.”
> 
> “Sorry to hear that. If you don’t mind, what is his diagnosis?”
> 
> Weeping, she said, “Epilepsy.”
> 
> “So?”
> 
> “You don’t understand - he has epilepsy!”
> 
> “So? So do I.”
> 
> “What!”
> 
> “Yes, and I drive - I just don’t stand at the edge of a cliff. If I had to choose a disorder, I would have chosen epilepsy.”

The doors opened and we went our separate ways. I like to think I might have reached her, taught her a little perspective and perhaps prevented her from teaching her son how disabled he was and must always be.

Original score: 8