#pimp my mobility aid

[disabled-is-not-a-dirty-word]

[ID: Five photos showing different angles of an upright rollator walker that has been spray painted pink. A glittery space-themed fabric has been used to decorate the backrest and form a cushion. /End ID]

I wasn't planning on getting a new mobility aid so soon, but as much as I loved my old rollator (SteVe), I knew that an upright would be much better for my back and wrists. The smaller wheels also kept getting stuck in cracks, and I nearly faceplanted several times as a result. So when I saw a local mobility aid dealer selling all his old floor models for cheap, I couldn't pass it up.

Welcome to the family, Fury!!

This is the most effort that I've put into customizing a mobility aid thus far. I won't lie, it was a pain (literally), but I love her. Walking with her feels AMAZING. I was actually able to go for a walk around my neighborhood without pain! So happy to be ringing in the new year with her!

[tumbleofwires]

This is so clever! I definitely want to customize my cane and new rollator but I haven’t quite decided how to do it yet.

hello! i was wondering if you had any tips for customizing a wrap around velcro knee brace? i recently have started needing to wear them regularly on both knees, and i’m super insecure about it. i’m hoping maybe if i make them look a bit more like me, i can cut out some of the embarrassment!

i love your blog, thank you so much!

Customising knee braces

Disability aids:

You might feel self-conscious when you first start using a disability aid, and people might be rude about it, but I hope you'll find a way to feel more comfortable about them. They're there to help you, and there's nothing embarrassing about needing them.

As long as your modifications don't interfere with your health or the functionality of your disability aid, customising their looks is a great way to deal with any negative feelings you might feel about needing them (in my personal experience, anyway). I customised my patella braces, for example.

Knee braces:

This is what my patella braces used to look like:

[ID: close-up of a gray patella brace with a logo saying “Push Braces” in the front.]

And this is what they look like today:

[ID: a pair of gray patella braces with a layer of purple lace sewn onto the front of each brace.]

There are a lot of different types of wrap-around knee braces, but if there's bits of fabric that aren't in contact with any of the Velcro parts and aren't a crucial part of the support the brace offers, they're probably free game for modification.

You could whipstitch a prettier fabric over these parts, or add fun trims or something. Try to avoid doing anything that causes threads and such to sit directly against your skin because that might get uncomfortable. For example, you're probably best off embroidering a separate piece of fabric and whipstitching it onto your brace rather than embroidering the brace itself.

Also note that knees move a lot during the day, so try to keep your alterations simple and sturdy.

(Image source) [ID: close-up on a gray wrap-around knee brace with a green logo saying "Senteq".]

While this is probably not applicable to your knee brace, I've also seen a lot of people have great success using stickers, spray paint, or washi tape when customising aids with metal or plastic parts like crutches and such.

Conclusion:

Disability aids are a part of our lives. We use them every day, so why can't they be pretty? Might as well turn them into something that looks good!

If you want more inspiration, check out the Facebook group Pimp My Mobility Aid.

If insurance or governmental aid was involved in getting your aids, you might want to check their policies before modifying your disability aids.

[noah-liketheboat]

I’ve recently begun using a wheelchair. Here’s the scoop.

I also started using forearm crutches even more recently but we’ll get to that in a second post bc this one got too long

I got my chair for $325 on OfferUp. It’s a motion composites Helio A6, and it has some fancy cushions on it. All in all I got it like 88% off of original price and it’s in pristine condition. Well, it was, until I brought it home and within 24 hours my cat scratched the (pink!!) paint job and put holes in the cushions. Thanks Misty. It now lives in the back of the car for its protection.

I put a clip-on cup holder on it and purple/white spoke covers. It’s pretty sick.

I use my wheelchair instead of walking/standing probably 30-40% of the time.

Personally

Oh my god it’s helped so much. I have so much more energy. I don’t flinch when I stand or walk. I can wait in line for food. I’m not dizzy, embarrassingly sweaty, and spacey just from standing in line anymore.

Because the previous owner spent literally $1,000 on special cushions (seat and back), I have the comfiest seat in any room 96% of the time. 10/10 would recommend. It helps with the back pain too obvi but first and foremost it’s so comfy.

I can go to the zoo. I get into the zoo for free because college but I can’t ever go because I can’t tolerate walking and standing for so long. But now I can go to the zoo!

I have more energy at the end of the day to participate in household chores and life. Before this, all my time was spent either in school or trying to recover enough to go to school again. Even doing my homework was difficult because of the fatigue, let alone date nights, hobbies, cooking dinner, sweeping the floors… it caused a lot of tension between me and my partner as well as my general being miserable.

Very steep learning curve. Very steep strength curve.

The ramp to my math class isn’t a steep grade but it’s long. When I started using it, I had to wheel up backwards. I got out of breath very easily and my shoulders were always aching something awful after going between classes. Now that hill is quite manageable and I only have sore shoulders if I’m going really fast or really far.

Wheelies. An unexpected but important skill. One that I am not good at. It took me weeks to get my wheels off the ground at all, but once I did I had a huge improvement and quickly was able to get my wheels ~6 or 8 inches off the ground. I still can’t sustain it though. I use them to go over bumps and get started up awkward ramps sometimes.

It’s been an amazing improvement to my life. I’m more independent, in less pain, happier, and more energetic. I should’ve done it earlier.

Observations:

People are weird. They talk to me more. Like, strangers ask me how my day is going in the elevator, people make small talk when they hold the door. This isn’t necessarily negative, but it is weird.

Kids stare. Adults also stare but they try to hide it. I don’t mind when kids stare though. They’re just curious and unaware.

I’m always a little nervous to ever stand up or walk out in public in case someone either thinks it’s a miracle and starts praising the lord or like hate-crimes me for “faking.”

When I wheeled in to all my classes after spring break, my teachers and seat mates were all instantly “oh my god what happened are you ok???” It’s a little awkward to explain that it’s just nerve damage that’s been getting worse.

People usually say “I’m so sorry” or “I hope you get/feel better soon!” And it’s like. I know their intentions are good, of course, but I don’t want people to be sorry! This has been an amazing life change for me! Also I’m not getting better, certainly not any time soon, and conversation gets awkward after that.

I think when I tell people it’s not really a “get better” thing, I think they at least subconsciously think it’s terminal or something?? Like. I’m not dying of nerve damage. I had nerve damage before spring break too. It’s just I finally decided to do something besides suck it up and hope I can make it through the day.

My campus is not as accessible as I once thought. The main culprit? UNLEVEL SIDEWALKS. They are the bane of my existence. My right arm will be pumping like my life depends on it and my left will be almost doing nothing. And then later when I’m doing the other way it’ll be the opposite.

There’s no ramp on the other side of one of the buildings I walk through to get to class. That was awkward.

There’s also a lot of cobblestone-type walking areas. Not only are they hella bumpy to wheel on, but they’re old and not well maintained. The cracks between slabs and the potholes can and will eject me from my chair if I’m not careful.

Funny story #1:

I rolled into the disability center on campus to take a test, as per usual (extended time and testing environment accommodations) and they had me wait while they got everyone else seated, which was weird, and then the testing coordinator came over to me and sat down next to me and was like “heyy how are you?” And I was like “I’m good, I’m good! Ah, well—*gestures to chair* yknow.” And she goes “Yeahh of course… so is this… new?”

Is it new??? Ma’am you see me every three weeks on the dot for tests, and every time for the past two years I’ve walked in on my own two feet, and today I come rolling in as I’ve transgendered into a vehicle. Yeah it’s new!!

Don’t worry I didn’t say that. I said “yeah, well, kind of. The chair is new, but the reasons aren’t. It’s just helping me a lot and my life is easier with it.” or smthn like that and she was like “oh ok good cool great”

Anyways, she just needed to tell me essentially that she would have me take my test at a height-adjustable table. Same room, same everything. Just instead of sitting in a test cubby I’d be at what’s essentially one of those standing desks. I was all nervous just for her to sit me at a table I can crank up and down like an old car window.

Funny Story #2

I’m rolling across the courtyard(??) in front of the library where they were having one of those random college of business things with tents everywhere. You’re aware. Just trying to get to class.

I hear “Hey! Excuse me, hey!” from behind me and I turn my head to see a girl frantically waving me down running across the grass. Naturally I’m intrigued.

She gets to me, a little out of breath, and then goes “Would you be interested in playing tennis?”

I look down at my chair. I look back up at her. “Ah… no��”

She was talking about adaptive tennis. Which I could’ve guessed probably but I was caught so off-guard and I was real confused.

She invited me to join the adaptive sports program/club thing, which is headed by a disabled professor but run entirely by able-bodied students (who get a class credit for volunteering with the organization, essentially). I told her I was really new so probably not, but I was willing to look into it. She gave me the professor’s email and I sent him an email like “hey one of your students flagged me down to talk abt adaptive sports but I’m shit at wheelchairing so probably not but I’d love to meet up and chat and get to know more about the program and stuff.”

It’s been a month. I haven’t gotten a reply or acknowledgement or anything.

All the stuff I can find about the program is obviously directed towards able-bodied students wanting them to volunteer or take the class. The Instagram has a post with each student in the class getting a slide with their lil intro and stuff. The professor only appears in group shots. At any rate I’m not that invested.

Personal Relations

Abled ppl when I told them I’m getting a wheelchair: oh no!! I’m so sorry!! What’s wrong!! That’s awful!! :((((

Disabled ppl when I told them I’m getting a wheelchair: omg that’s amazing I’m so happy for u :)

One exception to the able bodied trope: my youth group Bible study, surprisingly. I was sharing that I was really feeling a lot of turmoil about my decision and all that jazz and they were like “just do it. you already know it’s the right choice, and ur strong enough to do it” and they all “oohed” and “ahhed” when I rolled up with it next week. 10/10 queens.

My wheelchair has caused so many personal relationship issues in my life. So many.

Suddenly everyone’s a medical expert in me specifically. Everyone besides me knows what’s best, and what’s best is not a wheelchair. People who used to ask me what was wrong with them when they had a tickle in their throat or fell on their foot funny have apparently become scholars on complex hashimotos, nerve damage, neuropathy, and any and all suspected other conditions I may have. I wonder when they had time to do that, since they still don’t know how to care for a simple kitchen injury.

When I point out that the alternative to the wheelchair is constant+worsening pain and ask them if that’s what they think is best, these overnight medical experts get all huffy and don’t have an answer.

I have done extensive research about all my diagnosed conditions and possible ones over the course of many years. I’ve been in and out (mostly out) of at least a dozen doctor’s offices and done several rounds of different types of PT. I also live in my body 24/7. One of my earliest memories is of waking up my aunt at night during a sleepover because my nerve pain wouldn’t let me sleep. I wasn’t any older than 4. Back then the only words I had were leg cramps and growing pains.

I didn’t know my pain was abnormal for a long time. I’m good at hiding it. I’m good at “pushing through.” I experienced severe medical neglect, to the point of it being life-threatening, for nearly 2 years in the TTI and I was punished any time I tried to advocate for myself and my needs or really even talked about how I wasn’t physically well.

Basically I gave up trying to truly tell people how bad my quality of life was when I was about 16 because I wasn’t believed and I was often punished and/or had it used against me.

Nevertheless, everyone (read: my partner, my parents, and my partner’s parents) in my life thinks that I’m terrible awful wrong bad lying etc. for using the chair.

I’ve been using it for ~2 months and this is the first week my partner hasn’t argued with me about it or made an unnecessary comment. #1 worst thing they’ve said is that I’m “neglecting half of my body” by not walking 24/7. Oooh that made me mad. I do my PT almost every day, I stretch every day, I know exactly what almost every ache and pain originates from, I check in with my body constantly throughout the day. But I’m “neglecting it.” Not to mention that after my second appointment my Doctor specifically said he wants me using the chair until at least June.

My partner was originally very supportive, but then they talked to their mom and suddenly everything changed and they are borderline vindictive about my chair. Their mother is a Doctor, true, but most of her career she was a PICU nurse and also knows exactly nothing about my medical history except that I’m allergic to pecans and walnuts. Oh, and their dad has a friend who cured hashimotos by going gluten free, so obviously I’m just not trying hard enough or smthn. ((I’ve been almost gluten free before. No change.))

I cried every week about their attitude towards/comments about my chair except for this one. Every time I felt confident about it I would remember everything they said and my shoulders would physically slump. But no matter how many times I brought up how hurt and uncared for I was feeling, it ended up with me crying and them being either the same or more solid in their beliefs.

My therapist is a saint.

On the brightish side, my family and partner have finally begun taking my health and chronic issues seriously. I went to the Doctor two weeks after I got the chair and got started on a new medicine (a loop diuretic if anyone’s curious).

My mom keeps asking if I’m “better yet” and it’s really hurtful for some reason? She wants to know all my improvements, but when I start to say how my chair has helped so much, she cuts me off and says “no I mean the medicine.”

I am on the lowest dose they make, and I only take it every other day. I haven’t lost any weight since starting it (loop diuretics work by flushing excess water out of your body via peeing every twelve seconds, and this leads to weight loss. It’s estimated I’m carrying ~30lbs in water weight). Again, it’s been nearly two months. I’m the pissmaster 9000 every other day.

My mom at some point said she just “can’t accept that I’m in a wheelchair at 20.” My brother in Christ, what does that even mean? I’m not even using it full-time, or even the majority of the time.

I’ve had a follow up with my Doctor since I started but he kept me on the same dose even though I told him I haven’t lost any weight. Cest la vie.

He did tell me he wants me using the chair until at least June, and if all goes well he’ll start me in (another round of) PT, and it sounded like he wanted me doing decently intensive PT because he asked if I was in school in June and said it was good I wasn’t. If I go to PT, the chair usage advice will be passed on to them.

This post got far too long. I’ll split my crutches experience into a separate post and link it here once it’s up.

The chair herself. Yeah it’s in a bathroom don’t worry about it.

[smoov-criminal]

if pimp my mobility aid were a show i would get at least to the semi-finals. also i have an upright rollator now! (thanks @crippleprophet)

[ID: maja's upright rollator fully decorated. the bag that sits under the seat has been modded with silver spike rivets around the zipper. theres a large patch in the center affixed with safety pins that says "hands off!" in red paint, with two hands on either side crossed out. theres 6 buttons on the patch, some music, some advocacy related. there are also chains wrapped around the bars and hanging from the handles. the backrest has been fitted with a cover made from a gray flannel, and has three patches safety pinned to it. from left to right they read "punks respect pronouns" "cripple punk asshole" and "1412". the first and third are in red, while the second is in white. /end ID]

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1113

Anon asked:

Do you have any hurt/comfort prompts about chronic pain? My character has chronic pain from old spine and knee injuries and I want him to be taken care of for once instead of having to endure it alone (like me lol).

Sorry to hear you’re suffering Anon! Here are some comfort-based prompts for you. I hope these help: 

When the pain gets so bad, and the caretaker hasn’t seen A in a while, they’ll take a drink and some food to them, as well as a fresh hot water bottle or two to their room. A has been in bed all day, so is thankful for the snack and heat source - their electric blanket just isn’t cutting it. 

Maybe they hate using their mobility aids, but the caretakers find a way to make it more bearable. They glare at anyone who stares at A, they ‘pimp out’ the aid to make it more appealing, if they use a cane they could wrap the handle in something soft to stop it causing blisters (your caretakers always have plasters on hand for this occasion, though).

After too many occasions of A causing themselves more injury/agony by forcing themselves out of bed/a chair/off the ground, the caretakers insist on A texting them if they need help. A is at first reluctant to do this... but one day its so bad all they can text is ‘help’, and the caretakers come running without question. When they’re up, all A can do is apologise in their embarrassment. The caretakers literally don’t care; they’d rather take five minutes helping A up instead of forcing them to endure it themselves. They’re just worried that one day A wont have anyone nearby. 

Maybe they help monitor how much pain medication A is taking (they’re prone to taking too much when it’s bad), because all those tablets can’t be doing A’s liver any good. 

They help with alternative pain management: baths, hot water bottles, an electric blanket, recreational smoking, small exercises etc. 

For A, the summer is unbearable, all the caretakers can do is help massage the painful areas, yet it also inflicts pain on the whumpee. 

A is also miserable when they’re sick - they cannot get comfortable and every cough sends spikes of agony through their spine. 

The caretakers make sure A doesn’t spend too long on their feet (missions/outings etc are planned accordingly.)

If missions/outings do go on for longer than expected, then it’s unlikely anyone will see A for at least a couple of days as they recover. 

Speaking of which... what happens if A is faced with a scenario like the one that caused them their injuries?

Your caretakers comfort A whenever they feel like a burden. They love to remind them that they are more than their body: while it may betray them, the fact that A has survived their injuries is a huge feat of strength. 

And one for the giggles: A is dragged begrudgingly to an acupuncture session to see if it helps. (They were even more begrudging to admit that it did.)

[bismuthine]

Pimp my mobility aid

[agro-alone]

My mam wants my help "pimping out" her mobility aids. Need some inspiration and advice on it

[blondewelshhimbo]

shout out to my friend who, when I asked my friends if I could bring my cane to the mall for the first time, said I looked like a badass pimp. you are the sole reason I now feel comfortable using my mobility aides.

[systemgoblincore]

hi i don't know you but i saw your tags about mobility aids and if you think it'd help GO FOR IT. I got a crutch bc i felt like i distributed all my weight wrong and hurt my back and guess what, i was right! I can walk and wander for a bit again instead of having to sit down every ten minutes to reset my spine. It's a lot easier and I've also been figuring out how to pimp out my crutch with charms and places to hang stuff and it's really fun.

Get a mobility aid! the worst it can happen is it doesn't help

Hihi ik u asked this a WHILE ago but I forgot to answer,,,

I did infact get a cane, and it has helped. So. SO MUCH. 10/10 would recommend.

I'm able to walk a lot more than I used to be able an more importantly. It doesn't hurt!! which is. Really nice!! I hope u were able to pimp em out even more since u sent the ask!! /g

[mallwalker922]

Feminist frustration with online activism often stems from its lack of tangible impact. While digital platforms allow for the spread of ideas, many feminists feel that real world organizing is necessary for true change. The shift from online discourse to physical mobilization is seen as essential for challenging oppressive systems and creating lasting social transformation. Radical feminist critiques of sex work focus on the broader systemic forces that push women into the industry, rather than simply protecting workers. They argue that by targeting the demand for sex work and providing resources to exit, feminists can dismantle the structures that exploit women. This isn t simply a matter of misunderstanding—it s a deliberate attempt to invalidate. These comments reflect a resistance to accepting the reality of emotional suffering, especially when it disrupts the narrative of strength and stoicism. But what is it about pain, specifically when expressed by women, that makes it so uncomfortable to acknowledge? I'm aiming for the legal protections of the prostitute but a crackdown on johns and pimps. I want prostitutes (and other 'sex workers' of course but I am focusing on prostitutes) to be able to seek aid, go to the police, and get other forms of help without fear of being arrested or fined. I want johns to be scared to even walk near a prostitute. I want pimps to face a minimum of 10 years in prison if not more. Edit. Since some of you are stupid. Yes, the man is also to blame, dumbass. He 's an inhuman roach too. Yes, he 's worse. The fact that this has to be said just reaffirms my knowledge that you committing suicide is the morally correct thing to do. I repeat: Die.

[abrahamshipwreck]

I wanna see more customized mobile aids. I wanna see modded canes, I wanna see pimped out rollators. I want inspiration for my own shit so I dont feel like shit for needing them

[therealgothambychelsealauren]

Chapter XII pt 2: Harley Quinn & Other Breakups with Homicidal Clowns

4 factors to deem defendant's conduct as a Heat of Passion:

1)Adequate provocation - did the defendant experience provocation that adequately would've provoked a reasonable person in similar circumstance/with similar characteristics?

Part of what brought Khalil and I so close was a natural/developing trust in each other to share vulnerabilities, beliefs, ambitions, and even traumas that we happened to have majorly in common.

It all started when he gave me legal advice and resources to try to get into the aforementioned apartment during training hours with The Organization. From that conversation we found that we both had ambitions to attend law school, that we both had started then paused our law school application cycles, and that as "lifelong students" we did not intend to stop our education at earning a J.D. - maybe we'd also get a Ph.D. in Criminal Justice or English or Criminology so we could be college professors. Khalil gave me contact info for higher-ups within The Organization who could potentially mentor me through my law school application cycle, but when none responded 2+ months into my service year, Khalil offered to be my mentor (if you're in Contracts rn check to make sure I used the term "offered" appropriately). He gave me LSAT prep books and met with me bi-weekly to work on my resume and my personal statement. In the hour or so we scheduled for each mentorship session, we spent at least 20 minutes talking about personal things and finding a lot of common interests and moral convictions.

Within our first few sessions, he showed me his J he had set aside for after he was officially off the clock for the day, we learned we both had passions for social justice and poetry, and we shared a common trauma/healing journey as Black people who grew up in poverty with single mothers. In early December, he was reading my personal statement and I told him how nervous I was about doing what he called "trauma pimping" in my essay - I didn't want to exploit myself and flash my traumas but per the custom of college application essays, I needed to earn the school's sympathy to earn acceptance and financial aid. My essay revealed what inspired me to become a lawyer at such a young age - my mom raised us in poverty and had endured chronic abusive relationships, we moved around constantly trying to avoid homelessness (between apartments, mobile homes, grandma's house and the couches of on-again-off-again-boyfriends) and my mother struggled with substance abuse to numb herself from the trauma and ongoing hardships we faced - meanwhile I served as the family's advocate in doctor's offices, parent-teacher conferences, and Child Protective Services meetings when really we needed advocacy from a legal professional. Khalil reassured me that my story was compelling, "a Micheal B Jordan story for real" when I feared schools would think my story was pitiful or overdramatic. He said I was adding too much pressure unto myself, and I was stressed to market myself for law school acceptance based on a life I had felt so much shame for experiencing. Towards the end of this conversation, I revealed that part of the reason I felt so much pressure was because I was acting in survival mode - a mode I chronically cycled through, and I was stressed to make sure I got into law school to avoid homelessness once my service year with The Organization was over. Law school felt like a way out of these chronic cycles of poverty and threatened survival, just like how in undergrad living on campus as an RA protected me from the threat of going back to a homeless shelter or a motel - and how getting my degree protected me from following the same shame and poverty-stricken path my mom endured because she never finished school. I didn't just want to go to law school, I needed to get in to break free from these generational curses that Khalil could also relate to. As I held back tears, I saw Khalil watch me with an intensity I had not experienced from a man before; most men watched me like a tiger waiting to strike with a response that invalidated anything I said or felt, but he watched me like he clung onto every single word I said. His eyes were shiny, he held a respectful silence as he ingested what I said, and later I felt immense shock for being so vulnerable with him so naturally when it took me years to confide in a therapist about the same thing… He ended the conversation by noting how I'm "very bright" and he claimed to be determined to get me through this - that I will get into law school and he will "work with me on this with all [he's] got no matter what, we'll meet as many times as [I] need to."

After this meeting I got in the elevator and filmed a Snap about having a crush on my boss and sent it to my best friends from college - the crush was something I hadn't even admitted to myself until this meeting made me feel something I had never felt with a man before: safe.

I realized that, contrary to what I thought I felt for the men's soccer team goalie in high school, I was deadass in love for the first time.

In the weeks that followed, I gushed to my college friends over phone calls in Bryant Park as Khalil and I continued to grow closer. I told them about how he wanted me to meet his little sister because he thought "she could learn some things from [you]" and how he pulled me in for a hug after he called me an uber back to work from a work-related favor he asked me to do, and how he stepped out of a 3-hour zoom meeting to be my cheerleader in the back of the room when I was nervous about being a panelist for an event with The Organization in front of a large crowd. Khalil even confided in me about his heartache in abandoning his childhood dream to become an actor when inherent racism overshadowed his potential in the industry; producers chronically denied him roles because he brought "too much swagger" to each character he read for, and that inspired him to get a law degree he could use to found his own production company and provide opportunities for Black and Brown creators that he had harshly been denied. This vulnerability, after we had both shared that we struggled to be vulnerable with others due to similar experiences, felt exclusive, like watching sand get molten into a diamond. The vulnerability, trust, and respect we had for each other seemed to grow every day.

Especially in February, when the CEO of The Organization was fired for sexually assaulting a subordinate - though I was one of few who had the reason behind the termination confirmed. I asked Khalil about it, having heard the news from a mutual friend who allegedly heard it from him, and he revealed he was the mandatory reporter who the victim had come to to file a report and press charges. I warned him about the implications if people found out of his involvement - that "everyone's gonna come to you with a million questions." I had a background in investigative journalism and I knew better than anyone that news traveled fast with potentially severe consequences. He told me some of his internal feelings with the case, that if The Organization didn't fire the CEO and take the case seriously, he'd go to the news about it. I was so worried about him and rumors of his involvement jeopardizing the justice he and the victim sought that I called him later that day on my way home from work. He promised he'd be cautious, and from then on I promised I'd alert him immediately if I heard of any more info/rumors that could jeopardize the case. He asked me to "have some faith in him" - that he knew what he was doing and looking out for himself just as much as the victim. Without telling me the name of the victim, he did trust me in sharing his stress and internal feelings through this, that he had an internal conflict of guilt because a similar incident happened last year with a victim of similar characteristics who asked him not to do anything about it but Khalil wondered if he had acted then if the victim now would've been spared. The situation only brought us closer, checking in on each other knowing of circumstances we acknowledged without explicitly addressing the matter out loud for fear of eavesdroppers.

Khalil soon told me that he planned to leave The Organization at the end of the year, that this situation and other injustices encouraged him to plan to leave and pursue opportunities more relevant to his law school ambitions so that his application was stronger. I found out later that I was one of two people in The Organization who knew he was leaving months prior to his official announcement, and that (allegedly) I was the first he told. In meetings following his secret whisper about leaving The Organization, he promised plans with me post-service; meet his little sister, "put you in spaces I think you'd do well in, introduce you to new friends," have conversations about some of the back-door goings-on and "tea" at The Organization and some of its higher-ups once I graduated.

To my friends and to me (eventually, once I abandoned my instinctive denial and insecurities towards men) it seemed like Khalil really liked me, trusted me, and intended to at least maintain a friendship with me post service. Not to mention the physical touches that seemed reserved for me and the way he excitedly shouted my name in common spaces when he didn't with anyone else and how he seemed to always seize an opportunity to commend me for my character, my intelligence, my compassion, and my talent. I felt special, friends (and roommates/coworkers) speculated a particular spark between us, and in that I dared to hope that *maybe* after all the heartaches I left in the midwest, he could finally be someone good for me.

The first element of the Heat of Passion defense requires that the defendant's reactive conduct of killing someone was reasonable compared to how someone else of similar characteristics in similar circumstances might have responded.

And I think any woman like me, being treated the way Khalil treated me, and taking into account the kind of man Khalil seemed to be -someone who claimed to be honest, "committed to community service like it was [his] religion," a philosopher and lover of authentic lovely things - would have been head over heels for him. Our natural chemistry and common interests, our beliefs and ambitions that seemed to sharpen each other like iron sharpening iron, even our similar people-pleaser tendencies and appreciation for sarcasm, all seemed too meaningful. Not to mention the trust, care, and respect we clearly held for each other - Khalil repeatedly noted how much he respected me, something I had never been told from a man before. Between January and March, we were on the phone at least once a week for "professional development counseling."

I think anyone might have wondered if maybe our relationship was more than just "work friends."

I mean his ex-girlfriend, who happened to be my roommate's zone manager, certainly wondered so - but I'll get back to that part later.

Friends old and new advocated for hope of something good growing between us - that "maybe you finally met someone meant for you."

[sparrowsocks]

Hello gamers, local disabled cane user is gonna teach you how to design a cane.

Tl:dr: design a cane based on comfortability and the disability of the character

First things first, you need to know why you’re character needs a cane. Do they have chronic pain? Unhealed injury? Muscle or joint issues? Do they have poor blood circulation which makes them dizzy? Do they need the cane all the time or does their disability fluctuate? Do they use a wheelchair or a walker sometimes?

There’s a lot you should know about a characters ability/disability in order to find what type of mobility aid they should be using.

There are a bunch of different kinds of canes/crutches. The 4 on the left are crutches. The difference between canes and crutches are, crutches are meant to keep weight off your legs as much as possible, and generally you use a crutch on each arm. Canes are used for stability and you usually only use one. Folding canes are great for people who only use their cane sometimes

Great! You’ve picked either a cane or crutches for your character. I’m done right? WRONG. Cane handles.

This is probably the most important part of canes because if you have the wrong handle your wrist will die.

I gently kiss all the canes on the left, they are all very good for grip and wrist, although the middle left is designed for left or right hand so you cannot switch hands with it.

The ones on the right are also pretty good, they wouldn’t be my first choice but they are still great. The top one is also very good as it has a wristband so you can’t drop it as easily. (Trust me when I say I DROP MY CANE SO MUCH)

Sigh. The middle cane handles… the bottom one I have never actually seen but it looks like it would kill my wrist. The top one is uncomfortable for long period uses, but it is good for if you’re a shepherd. And the pimp cane… the knob cane… it’s awful. Just no. It’s hard to grip, it is unstable it’s bad it’s awful I throw it into a fire. Please don’t give your character, they don’t deserve that pain

Now you know the basic ergonomic things, there are different shafts for canes and crutches

You can really get creative with this type of thing, just as long as it looks stable enough.

Here are some good examples of pretty canes that are ergonomic and good to use! (featuring victor arcane who i adore)

Add some cute details to the cane if you want! You can add stickers, colours, grip support. And while I love the concept of cane swords those are very unstable, if you want a cane weapon you can make it lead weighted, put knives in it. A poison vile in the shaft. Be creative.

Just some of these components are important to consider with a disabled character. There’s a lot more to consider with wheelchairs and walkers which I don’t have the experience with.

If you do have any questions my asks are always open to questions about this stuff! I’d love to help if you’re making a disabled character.

[brydeswhale]

So I’m getting into Shameless because whatever, and I gotta say, I don’t get why Mickey and Ian are this supposed great couple.

Like, I don’t hate Mickey, or anything, but he displays some worryingly abusive tendencies in his relationship with Ian. He has a seriously toxic response to any time he feels a lack of control in his life, which is to lash out, physically or emotionally, and the fact that I have been skipping ahead a bit(because I am a spoiler fan), and Ian marries him AFTER MICKEY BREAKS HIS DAMN LEG implies that this isn’t something the writing is commenting on, like, at all.

And the fandom response to issues in their relationship is also worrying, like, the idea that Ian owes Mickey something because Mickey chose to try to care for him while he was struggling with his bi-polar disorder, Ian owes him something, or that Ian saying he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with Mickey while Mickey is closeted(a closet that Mickey, mind you, has had no problem reinforcing with violence directed towards Ian), or not wanting to uproot his entire life and be on the run in a foreign country for Mickey is “toxic/abusive” behaviour, seems to be very prevalent in fandom circles.

Bizarrely, this is often paired with the idea that Mickey “had” to beat the crap out of Ian, or that Mickey was somehow forced to be cruel to Ian, because Ian is so “irrational” or “too idealistic”.

“He only hits her because she nags too much, amirite?”

Pro-abuse rhetoric is distressingly common in fandom, so it’s not like this is surprising behaviour, or anything. It just kind of surprised me that it was so dominant in my experience of it, from YouTube video comments to fanfiction.

It’s also kind of messed up how often this attitude is paired with ablism. “Ian is bi-polar, Mickey still loves him, so Ian better be good, because Mickey is the only one who’ll ever put up with his crazy ass” seems to be the word of the day. Meanwhile, IRL, that sounds a lot like the stuff we disabled people find ourselves thinking, or being told, when we face abuse. We deserve it because we’re so much trouble, we’re lucky to even have our abusers, even if they’re being cruel, hitting us, depriving us of our medication and our mobility aids.

And while we’re at it, for all the talk of Mickey “rescuing” Ian at the club, etc, um, not too long after, he’s basically pimping Ian out in order to blackmail closeted predators. And at this point, Mickey KNOWS something’s up with Ian’s mental state. I don’t think he knows what it is, but he knows there’s something wrong. So yeah, great job, Mick, you rescued him so you could do the same thing to him. Nice.

I don’t hate Mickey. Tbh I have a bit of a soft spot for him. I grew up around kids like Mickey, and I can see, probably like Ian, the sweet parts, the inner core of him.

But moving out of my old neighbourhood, getting new friends, growing up, suddenly I can see all those toxic behaviours that we all used to just say were signs of how much we were loved, and how they were actually signs of fear and self-loathing. And it’s kind of sad that fandom and the writing staff at Shameless don’t.

[pjthedaft]

i’m making a self insert for the first time since knowing i may need mobility aids for life and... like i’m kinda conflicted.

maybe this sounds weird, but i’m not too upset over needing mobility aids. it’s been nearly 9 months that i’ve needed them so i’ve kinda gotten used to them. plus, now that i’ve decided to paint and stickerbomb my crutches and i’ve discovered some pimp ass canes, i feel much better about them.

but ?? creating a self insert is a bit weird right now. i don’t know if i want to give my self insert the same disabilities as me or if i want him to be more able-bodied.

on one hand, i don’t want to continue to hold on to an unrealistic expectation for healing at the expense of my mental wellbeing. if i start to feel angsty about not being able to really use my leg again because of my self insert, then maybe i should give him the same need for crutches.

on the other hand, it’s a fantasy world ?? with cool ass fantasy sports ?? that i 100% would be obsessed with (and probably would have participated in) if i really did live in that world ???

perhaps with fantasy logic, i can invent some sort of mobility aid for my self insert that would make sense in that world. (even that may be walking a fine line though, i may i start to get angry that nothing like that exists for me, and if it did i definitely wouldn’t be able to afford it)

ah this sucks, if only my doctors didn’t royally fuck everything up, oh well

[braindamageforbeginners]

A few readers out there know me from Facebook. Some know me only for this account. Some of you know me IRL. A few of you have known me since I was five (this is absolutely true). But, today, if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to engage in an experiment. I posted this link on my FB page (with a brief description), however, I failed to describe the circumstances in which I conducted my research. This will be a tale of brain damage, neuroanatomy, orthopedic surgery, canes, and pimps. Yes, you read that last word correctly. If all that seems insane and surreal; well, get used to that.

So, you’ve undoubtedly seen that faux statistic that claims that you only use 10% of your brain. It’s misleading not only because there’s never been a significant study to back it up, but it also ignores how the brain works. As has been noted elsewhere; you only use a small percentage of your keyboard at a time. Why not just save money and order used keyboards that are missing a “z” or “~” key? Similarly, your brain has many, many specialized parts that are carefully coordinated to work together in harmony. You can also think of the brain as a carefully-run network of computers, where information (in this example, a selfie you’re going to have touched up for Match.com)  goes from computer A (in this case, your camera-phone) to computer B to computer C (where a technician fills in all those unattractive, bald, radioactive spots), to a printer. You could, theoretically, torch computer B in this hypothetical, and, as long as Computer C gets wifi. Unless the photographer is experiencing an outage, or he lost it in a craps game. In which case, he’d have to go to a public library or Kinko’s or someplace suitable to receive and modify things. But those are a hassle, and it’s not convenient to plan your life as if you’re going to have to run to a business center at a moment’s notice because you made a bad gamble. Human brains are very similar - there are a few places where science has a good idea what’s happening, some places where no one knows; anything, and everything in between. The point is, just like the photographer in that scenario, it’s possible for the brain - when injured - to develop new ways of sending information from one area to another, although that process is not well-known (and, if a few scientists I know are correct, I do that much, much better than the average human)(which, as it turns out, might just be because I’ll keep growing brain until it kills me). Which is really not here nor there, just that, as frightening as brain damage seems (and it scares the shit out of me), it isn’t necessarily as permanent as we thought twenty years ago.

Now, Tumors #2 and #3 were (are?)(were/are/will be?) were in my right somatosensory cortex (that old thing about the right side of the brain controlling the left side of the body? That’s mostly-accurate; so all my motor deficits are on my left side). The good news is, science has a pretty good idea what does, and it heals well with few flaws and without much help (of course, that was just what the surgeons told me; I didn’t ask about combining surgery, chemotherapy, and radiotherapy; so we’ll all find out, together). Which means that the biggest, most-lastingest side-effect of the latest round of high-powered treatment (by which I mean the surgery, radiotherapy, and 42-straight days of Temodar)(and the Cap serum, can’t forget that). In the week after the latest surgery, my entire left side was completely numb. Like, I couldn’t feel a thing (which, when I saw the horrifying swiss-cheese post-surgical MRIs, made me almost grateful I could figure out which side was screwed-up). In total honesty, I was never paralyzed on the left side (although I was definitely weakened), however, you’d be amazed at how useless your limbs are if you can’t feel them. Imagine if you had to actually see your hand to know if you had it clenched or not and you can imagine the trouble I had (okay, so that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it’s not far off)(also, my sense of sight, hearing, smell, etc were always intact, but that’s another matter)..

I’m doing much, much, much better these days; HOWEVER, as everyone has noted, the side-effects of treatment are identical to cancer progression (this is true), and, as Mad Scientist noted, likely to cause more somatosensory problems (I have a temporary handicapped parking placard thanks to that prediction) and, in total honesty, there have been a few days  where I was not moving at 100%. These are usually post-infusion days (there’s a shocker). So, after the latest round of black magic (that was last Tuesday, I believe), I wasn’t feeling completely well (I’ve also since figured out that my allergies tend to exacerbate my post-infusion side-effects), so, when offered the chance to go for  a walk, I accepted, and grabbed one of Dad’s canes.

A few notes on Dad I have previously left out. Back in... oh, let’s say the past, he had a nasty bicycle mishap that required lots of assorted orthopedic surgery, and required him to become an expert at using canes. So, I figured he’d have one left over from his own medical misadventures. I was right; and he dug out a German-engineered walking stick (that’s the only way to describe it). Although I got an introduction to cane-use 101 (the physical rehab cheerleaders in Northern California were decidedly sub-par), I decided it didn’t seem like a good immediate investment (Dad later confirmed this, pointing out that the form of injury determines the best cane to use). He also admitted that even though he liked the walking stick, it was his attempt to ditch the horrifying, medical-standard hospital canes you get sent home with, in favor of something cooler and more versatile. Now, also to keep in mind; Dad’s hip joint is starting to wear out, and he’ll be due in for more surgery at some point in the future. Which also could be a limp-rich time for me. And it occurred to me that I didn’t wait for Radiation Oncologist’s (horribly accurate)(still horribly accurate as it turns out) prediction that I’d lose vast swathes of hair, before i started doing hair-replacement research.

I believe my remark to Dad was, “There have to be cooler, functional canes. Pimps have them.” Yes, I’ll admit that may be the whitest thing ever written.

However, just 20 minutes of research made me realize just how screwed cancer patients are by dint of being a medical novelty - it’s a disease of old, (or an unbelievably rare disease, in my case) and, until recently, people weren’t living long enough to get cancer, or dying before they got diagnosed (that’s most brain cancer patients)(or patients with obvious tumors/cancer - it was discovered by the ancient Greeks, let’s not forget). Whereas we’ve had obvious, visible leg problems forever, and the underlying cause isn’t usually nearly-instantly lethal, so medical science has had a long, long time to deal with it. Now, in all fairness, I’m not saying paraplegia or bone or muscle problems or anything that causes limps and mobility problems are cured, or we need to divert research elsewhere, but a simple twenty minute search revealed that we are - in terms of those issues - light years ahead of even the coolest, most-freakiest stuff we have for brain tumors and cancer (my apologies to Radiation Oncologist if she’s reading this, but I think she’d agree that most treatments for bone injuries or hip dysplasia or any related medical conditions I’m forgetting are more numerous, cheaper, and more effective than anything available to me, even though there’s a possibility I’m being held together by the Warlocks stealing the life essence of other beings and transferring it to me)(okay, that sounds way cooler than any cane, but I’m digressing). The point is, only twenty minutes’ of research revealed a wonderland of walking-aid options. And we’re only talking canes. There are - this amazed me - flask canes. I mean, I get that flasks are good and needed; double for canes, but combining the two never would have occurred to me. Surely, the point of a flask is that it can be discreetly sipped in those moments of crisis or boredom in the courtroom or family counseling session. Having a mobility issue and coupling that with the cumbersome size of a cane doesn’t seem the most efficient means of delivery. There are, of course, the classic sword canes (although I don’t know how effective they’ll be at supporting your weight). Based on Ian Fleming’s writings and experiences, I’d imagine you could get some sort of gun-cane combination, although, that also seems both tasteless and inefficient.

However, after much, much perusing, I found Candidate #1, should my mobility issues return on a more permanent case.