I knew it was only a matter of time before I made a very
important decision. To do the handicap placard or to not do the handicap
placard. That is the question. I have been wrangling with this one for some time,
always coming up with reasons as to why my perfectly (dis)abled body does not
need to be rescued by a privileged parking space. That’s how I see it. Here’s why.
First, my symptoms are never that bad. At least that’s what
I’ve always told myself. I can park in any spot in the parking lot of Bed, Bath
and Beyond and capably walk to the front door. This always leads me to my
second point, which is that I really do not want to take a handicapped spot
away from someone who needs it more than me. How on earth would I be able to
live with myself if I drove my car atop the asphalt spot painted with the
universal disabled symbol and actually took it from someone else? I am not sure
I could live with the guilt of stealing a spot when I feel perfectly fine. This
line of thinking always ends with the forever silent, unmentionable realization
that I am a disabled person who might need assistance one day too.
Nope. Not this MSer. My third point I always think is a
strong one. I need the exercise. Walking. Walking is good exercise. The farther
out I park the car, the more exercise I will get. I often reason with myself. I do not need to shrink my already limited exercise routine by decreasing the
steps per minute that would come from parking so close to the entrance of the
mall. Ha, ha! Good one.
Lastly, the place where I need assistance the most is at
work yet I adamantly tell myself that I am not ready to come out with my
diagnosis to my office mates. Parking in the handicapped area will clearly
force me out of the MS closet. I know what you’re thinking, ‘o readers of mine.
How much of a secret could it really be if I write publicly on this blog? Minor
detail. I remain inflexible. I cannot get a handicapped placard. Everyone will
notice me stepping out of my car parked in the blue zone right in front of the
office building entrance. It will be so immediately obvious. There is no way to
avoid it. Everyone knows what kind of car I drive and they do not have a clue
that I live with MS. I always ask myself questions. How is this going to
work? Am I ready for this or should I dream up a story that I am recovering
from a very serious bike accident? People will believe me, right? Yes I realize
that keeping up with a story like this will be difficult and has the potential
of getting completely out of hand as I will be forced to describe every
elaborate detail of my crash. Besides, I can’t wear a fake cast forever. On the
other hand, parking is so limited at my office that many of us are forced to
park on a dauntingly steep hill that is an exercise routine all in itself. 300+
steps from the office front door to the top. I counted one day. I still
conclude and tell myself: more points to add to my third reason above if I
don’t get the placard, right?
This all changed with my recent relapse. Just last week my
MS took me by surprise and rewarded me with new numbness, from my waist down.
Not full numbness but enough to give the impression that I should probably stop
drinking at noon. This is when I decided it was time. I wrote it down on my
task list: fill out DMV form for disability placard. I will let you know how my first parking experience goes
when my pretty blue placard arrives in the mail. Stay tuned.
In the meanwhile, I am sure many of you have had similar
experiences. I would love to hear from you, to hear your story. How was your
experience in getting the disability placard?
P.S. If you live in California, you can fill out the
“Application for Disabled Person Placard or Plates” through this link: Application for Placard.
Best always,
Christie