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Personal Narrative: My Disability

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I had to be honest, I was deadly curious about what they would look and feel like. It wasn't every day you got to see and touch the latest in prosthetics. Still, I felt ashamed even approaching the building, going so far as to check to see if anyone I knew was around before tapping on the automatic door opener. I just didn't need to deal with giving anyone false hope. I was never going to get any of these things. Ever. But if friends or family knew I was even coming to see them, well, I'd never hear the end of it.

They wanted the best for me, I knew that. How could they not? My mother and father and siblings had watched all of my struggles and issues growing up and they had seen how hard it was for me out here in the world, a world that …show more content…

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have intruded like that. I just recognized you from your mother's description..."

“Seriously? I would have thought you'd get a lot of wheelchair and scooter users in here. It is what you do after all. I'm impressed that we don't all 'look the same to you," I joked stupidly. Lackey did not laugh. "Your hair," he said, and the license plate on your scooter. That's how I figured it out.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated that my mother chose to consult you on this before even telling me. We’ve had the same argument over and over for more than a year. It’s driving me crazy. No offense doctor, but I have no desire to have this surgery.”

I could see that he was trying not to look personally offended, which amused me. “Don’t tell me I’m the first person you’ve met who turned down your pretty additions to the human body?”

“Well, yes. The ones who don’t want it don’t usually show up at my office to inspect the goods. So tell me. Why is it that you won’t get the …show more content…

It’s not, you’re right. But the fact of the matter is the prosthetic takes a lot of money to make, Hannah. We cannot give it away for free. Sure we could donate our time, but we start with one then what? People will come out of the woodwork.”

He wasn’t wrong. I knew that much. But the very thing so many people need was so out of reach.

“All you’re doing is creating a new lower class of citizen. It’s not enough that the poor keep getting poorer. soon they will be the only ones left with mobility difficulties. Does that bother you?”

“Of course it bothers me. But I’n not the decision maker you seem to think I am, Hannah. Precision Technologies makes the prosthetics and decided the price, not me.”

I understood that, and said as much. But the fact of the matter was that it didn’t change anything. The prosthetics were segregation the poor people with disabilities had no way to fight. Who was gonna fight for them? Sure maybe her refusal to have the surgery was wildly ineffective, but maybe, just maybe, it would make someone think about the people who couldn’t afford the surgery.

“I just can’t do it, doctor. My conscience won’t let me.”

“I can’t say I understand, Ms. Cross, but I respect your decision. You know where to find me if you should change your

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