It’s an epiphany when you realize for the first time that the white stick-figure on a disability parking sign is you. That’s you.
Now you may park in that fat sirloin of a spot. Now you are “the disabled.” This leap to disabledhood is as much a mental process as a physical one.
And I fought the knowledge, down the line, tooth and nail. I always do, with every new adaptation or assistive device, fight, fight, fight.
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