“What if you end up in a wheelchair?”
I’ve mentioned this sentence before. It was uttered nearly five years ago, by my then-husband, in a counselor’s office as I made a last-ditch effort to save our marriage.
He knew I had a hereditary condition, that it was likely to progress, that even then I was starting to experience pain on walking or standing. I couldn’t promise him I would not end up in a wheelchair -- indeed, I probably will. But if you even have to ask the question, well ...
KosAbility is a community diary series posted at 5 PM ET every Sunday by volunteer diarists. This is a gathering place for people who are living with disabilities, who love someone with a disability, or who want to know more about the issues surrounding this topic. There are two parts to each diary. First, a volunteer diarist will offer their specific knowledge and insight about a topic they know intimately. Then, readers are invited to comment on what they've read and/or ask general questions about disabilities, share something they've learned, tell bad jokes, post photos, or rage about the unfairness of their situation. Our only rule is to be kind; trolls will be spayed or neutered.
I can’t tell you for sure, but I’d like to think that if the situations were reversed, I would have found a way to stay loving and strong and present in our marriage, even as I pushed the damn wheelchair.
I know that I am better off without someone who is not prepared to deal with my physical issues. But all this back story explains why I was so happy to have brunch with my friends M and L last week.
They have been a couple for nearly 15 years. Both previously married, they have worked together to raise kids, build a business, care for elderly relatives, and make a joyous and supportive relationship.
They have done this despite the cancer that once threatened to kill him, the MS that continues to throw roadblocks in her way. I love knowing them, not just because they’re great people, but because their continued love and encouragement for one another gives me hope.
They -- and other couples who manage disability with love and strength -- are the ones I try to remember when I get sad about the prospect of being single for the rest of my days. It CAN work.
It is not easy to be the partner of a disabled person, and from this distance, I'm able to say honestly that I don’t blame my ex for not wanting to take it on. Living with a disabled person need not doom you to living a life of unhappiness -- any more than living with a disability.
How do you negotiate relationships amid the realities of disability?