The thing is, I know I’m disabled.

I mean, I just turned forty-six, so I’ve been disabled for a long time, and I live with it every day. There are times where the act of doing something takes time, or it takes me figuring out how to do it, but I usually get it done; and sometimes, I ask for help, but that doesn’t happen very often. Among other things, I was born stubborn.

Case in point. I went out for a walk today. Now, I wasn’t feeling well earlier this week and have just gotten through a multiple sclerosis flare up, but I was tired of spending time indoors. I’ve been doing a lot of that, these days. I love my home and the art that I’ve covered the walls with, but sometimes I need other people and the joy that only fresh air can bring.

As I was walking towards Beechwood, the thought occurred to me that I really should have brought my cane, however I’ve taken this walk before so I didn’t bother to head back to the apartment. It was a beautiful day today and I wanted to be out in it, letting the sunshine down on me.

I was more tired than I had realized, fatigue is like that. It can just hide when it wants to and then peek out its face and say hello. This happens all the time and it’s the symptom that I deal with the most. Brain fog usually isn’t too far behind the fatigue, but the sunshine was helping to keep him at bay. I was happy to take my time walking, snapping pictures of the flowers I saw and keeping an eye out for cracks in the sidewalks.

The sidewalks in Ottawa are terrible, and I often found myself stopping and looking at my feet so that I could find my way in safety. On my walk, there was an older woman waling in the bike lane. I figured that she had hopped off the sidewalk and went into the bike lane to get around me. This happens a lot. However, the woman kept waling in the bike lane and until she turned, we were walking at the same pace.

She saw me walking and gave me a smile. I gave one back to her and she motioned for me to move into the lane with her. I realized that she was walking in the bike lane as it had a smoother more even terrain than the sidewalks that we were supposed to be walking on. I stayed on the sidewalk though. Even with the rough conditions, I felt safer on the sidewalk than in the road. I could only imagine what would happen if I fell near cars.

I stopped at Books on Beechwood. It had my destination all along. There is nothing so comforting as a bookstore or library and there are so many friends to meet within the pages of the books on the shelves. I chose a book that caught my eyes (After Oz by Gordon McAlpine) and went to the cash. There was one woman being helped and there was another woman working at the front cash. I handed her the book and started telling her that I was on the points program.

She shook her head and said: “I’m sorry, I’m deaf.”

I took off my mask so that she could read my lips. She shook her head, still not understanding, so I just smiled at her and waited for the gentleman to be free. The woman was wearing a mask so I could not see if she smiled back, but I did see her eyes crinkle as if in a grin.

I’d like to think that the smiles we share are each other are one of the ways that we can speak to someone’s spirit, even without the use of words. I was lucky enough to share a smile with two people dealing with their own physical issues and doing what they needed to do regardless of what tried to hold them back. I was reflecting how amazing it was that Books on Beechwood employs a disabled person as I began the trek back home.

I was having more difficulty with the Beechwood sidewalks. I kept tripping and losing my balance and my footing. I took my time again but couldn’t pick up my feet, so this made things more difficult. An older gentleman approached me, and he pointed and muttered something. I thought he was asking to get by, so I moved aside.

“Pick up your feet!” He said.

“I can’t.” I told him.

As he made his way by me, I heard him utter “Just lazy…”

‘I’m not lazy,” I said to him. “I’m disabled. Have a nice day.”

There was a time where I would not have said anything, but I tend to speak up and speak back now. I hope that this man, whomever he was, took a moment in thought and realized that maybe just because someone isn’t walking with a cane or mobility device doesn’t mean that they aren’t living with a disability.

I also learned something. I normally only walk with a cane in the winter when it’s paramount to my safety in our winter conditions. I’ve realized that I must walk with a cane at all times when I’m out on my own so that I don’t to worry so much about how I’m going to get to where I need to go. There is no shame in walking with a mobility device if I’m on my own.

As I made my way back home, I tried to think of the people that I had shared a moment with because we smiled at each other. We been able to share something without a word because we understood.