Yesterday, it was a beautiful day to go on a motorcycle ride. We are planning on a group camping trip in June, so we decided to ride down to the camp ground early to see what I may need to have to make it more comfortable. Planning, Planning, Planning...it is not easy to go places with me unless you have planned everything down to the letter, and have all your lists ready, and always plan for the "what ifs". (did you know not all places have 911, some are 511?) Anyway, it was a fantastic day, and I had just been thinking to myself.."so far, so good".
This past week or so, I have been having horrible problems breathing, and a heart rate of 130 or so. This only seems to happen when I am walking or moving my arms around, such as washing my hair, dressing, etc. We did have an episode, as we call them, when I got ready and walked to the motorcycle, but after sitting on it for a few minutes, all was well. I have an appointment with my wonderful Cardiologist on the 21st, which I know is a bit far away, but that is the soonest he can get me in. Besides, today is the 7th anniversary of my Open Heart...what can happen, right?
I'm getting off the subject here. We are riding down South 57, and decide to go into the rest stop. We have handicap plates on the motorcycle, and we pull into the parking spot. I get off, Charles gets off, and holds onto me as we go into the the rest stop. I decide this is way too much work, and need to sit down. He walks me to a bench outside and sits me down. To me, I think it is obvious that I cannot breath, and he is pretty worried. I told him I was going to be fine and run into the bathroom and I wouldn't move. He does. As he comes out, and he is bending down to help me up...here is comes. 2, I would say early 20 something....PUNKS..are walking up the sidewalk. Now, before anything has been said, one of them has made eye contact with me! The other loud mouth, turns and points to the bike and so every loudly says to his friend, "Look as that s&#@!!", "What a F*&^en Dickweed" Dickweed??? DICKWEED??? Okay, first of all, I don't even know what that is, but it pissed me off, quickly! But, Charles being the proffessional that he is, says to the rather large punk.."it has handicap plates on it"...and Me? Being the gracious person that I have turned into said, "Yeah, so F*$# YOU!!!" I haven't a clue where that came from..but it did, and it came fast!! Wow, maybe Charles should take some MMA fighting classes if all this anger keeps coming out. (?)
I guess I should add, this isn't the first time for me. Last winter in my car, I had a women chase me...yes, chase me into walmart, demanding that I move my "F" car!! She screamed at me over and over, cussing at me that there was nothing wrong with me. It started a fairly large group staring, then she just happened to notice the rather large scar down my chest, and said "OH, unless you have heart issues" and she walked away. No, I am sorry, nothing, just walked off to the next person.
A few years ago, I got tired of people making comments about me walking so slow, or where I parked, so I would return the comments with, "I am on the heart transplant list, would you like to tell me your blood type?" But, my Shrink told me I should stop doing that. So, then I told people, "My shrink told me I cannot ask you what your blood type is, because I am on the heart transplant list, so I have stopped keeping a cooler in my car." It stopped a lot of people from asking too many questions...well, the questions that were rude and uncalled for.
Don't get me wrong. I appreciate people that ask people to move out of the handicap spaces. If you don't think I belong there...ASK ME! Don't call me names, or cuss at me. Yes, Motorcycles can and DO have handicap plates just like a car,van and a truck can.
Just some extra insight on life with handicap plates. Just because "we" get to park close to the door doesn't mean you 1. know what is wrong with us. 2. you know how far we have already walked in that store, or the store before that. 3. You know how far we have to walk when we get all the groceries home. It is not just what you see at that moment..it is an accumulative thing.
So, maybe now when you see a motorcycle with handicap plates, you will stop and give some thought to what that person has had to go through just to be able to enjoy a short ride. It may have been the only enjoyable thing he or she had done that entire day. Same with handicap plates on cars, sometimes getting out once a day is all they can handle...You really don't want to be in their shoes!
No comments:
Post a Comment