Author: Tiff

I know it’s been discussed by hundreds of other dis-folks before on plenty of other dis-sites, but I just gotta say how much I think “Timmy” (and “Jimmy”) on South Park rules from a disabled person’s perspective; not only for being hysterically funny (making fun of oneself can provide the greatest of laughs), but also how it shows AB kids interacting and being friends with a disabled kid and not making a big deal out of it.

See, they show it without pointing it out and this subtle “non-highlighting the obvious politically correct goings-on” decision has done a lot I believe, in helping AB’s (of all ages) to stop freaking out what others may think if they decide to chillax with a disabled person. Heck, South Park has possibly even made it look cool in certain circles. Ha! The irony!

Famed actress with CP (Cerebral Palsy), Geri Jewell (from “Facts of Life” and “Deadwood”), is rumored to be the inspiration for these characters, but I’m not sure if Matt and Trey have fessed-up to this. But that’s besides the point. The REAL point is that through humor, changes in how we’re accepted can be made, which will hopefully carry on to future generations.

What’s more empowering than making fun of yourself before someone else gets a chance? By doing this, you’re both empowering and enchanting yourself to all the ABs in this AB world. Heck, Conan O’Brien is the MASTER at this. He’s always the first to poke fun at his crazy, uncontrollable red bouffant or his pasty white skin.

So with “Timmy,” the creators of South Park lovingly and adoringly poke fun at “Timmy,” usually by showing comical things that are related to his disability (like with he joined the “Crips”): There’s so much humor in a little boy with CP joining one of the deadliest gangs in the country, I don’t even know where to begin.

I’ll leave you with a most excellently funny link to a “Timmy” YouTube video:  “Timmy on his best.”

Andy = The dumbass in the wheelchair.

Lou = The dumbass PCA.

It’s a lot like Dumb and Dumber (as in “the blind leading the blind”), but the kicker? Andy can really walk and Lou is too dense to figure it out. Ha.

It’s classic British humor, courtesy of the hit comedy sketch show on the BBC: Little Britain

I absolutely LOVE this skit and thanks to YouTube, I can get my Lou and Andy fill anytime I want 🙂

Just to show you how great it is, check out my favorite Lou and Andy episode: Lou brings his friend Andy to the swimming pool…

– Tiff

Ever have that WTF moment (especially when you first wake up), where you simply can’t believe you’re in a wheelchair? It’s been 14 years since my accident, and I’ve been getting that feeling more and more lately…

It’s annoying and surreal. Just when you think you’ve gotten used to your condition, there goes your brain again, screwing up your coveted peace of mind.

Why in the hell is this happening to me so late in the game?? Anyone, anyone? Somebody help a sister!

– Tiff

How many times have you fallen out of your chair? In my 14 years of paralyzedville, I believe it’s been about 12 times or so, I can vivdly remember each time. I remember because it’s embarrassing. I remember because it hurts! And I remember because it’s a brutal reminder of how much I *really* depend on my chair. And I REALLY don’t like the latter part. It also doesn’t help that I can’t get back in it without help.

As I wheel around each day, working, visiting friends, going out, doing my day-to-day mundane activities, I forget how much I really rely on my chair. I forget I’m even using one sometimes, at the height of my business (I really love when this part happens). But then of course that’s usually when I roll by a mirrored-wall and see my reflection, getting reminded just how disabled I really look to the public. It’s crazy and very much an out of body experience.

One of the first times I fell out of my chair was in the middle of winter. I had an old conversion van with a lift, which my brother was operating. He was impatient, thought I had already rolled off the lift, and started bringing it back up, in the process flipping my chair over, with me getting a nice face full of snow. Oh the memories. My front caster wheels had been off the lift, but not my back wheels, hence why I flipped. I sometimes still wonder if my brother feels any regret from the day.

Another time I fell out was during my college days. I was walking with Mike, my blind friend, down the street one day in the middle of summer. I had taken some painkillers earlier on in the day due to a recent surgery I had and, “Whammy!” I got all dizzy suddenly, lost my already horrid balance, and fell out. And why o why does it always seems like I’m in slow-motion everytime this happens? Just another weird thing about chair life I guess.

I’ve been lucky. Out of all the times I’ve fallen out, at least someone was nearby to help. Can you imagine how scary it’d be to fall out and be all alone? I don’t even want to imagine.

Over the weekend, I experienced an agonizing, two nights in a row nightmare of an insomnia attack. It was horrid. I used to be like this as a kid, but thankfully, as I grew up, I grew out of it; until recently that is. I know the recent family stress that I’ve been going through is the likely culprit, but after I found a solution to my family drama just last week, I thought I’d be on the road to blissful peace within my soul (are you liking the melodrama?).

So last Sunday I woke up with this nasty Unisom hangover, sleep-deprived condition that probably made me the bitchiest person in Minneapolis that day. And that was the day I was scheduled to see the “Pompeii” exhibit at the Minnesota Science Museum with my friend Nicholas, and a group of people from his Unitarian church (they were really cool by the way…thinking about going). I was determined to not let Mr. Sandman’s hiatus from my life ruin my weekend plans (and I’ve been itching to see the “Pompeii” exhibit for weeks), so I went and picked-up Nicholas, so we could head on over to St. Paul to the museum (after downing a coffee and Red Bull, of course).

We saw the exhibit. It was pretty cool, but I could feel my caffeine-high wearing off. “Needs more coffee!” my zombie brain screamed at my consciousness. So off I went to the coffee shop down in the lobby. As I waited for the elevator to get down there, the worst thing that could’ve happened to me at that moment, did: I was getting crabbier by the second, my whole body (even my cheek muscles!) ached like crazy, and I was annoyed by every person walking by me….so of course, in comes an old lady – right-up in my face – saying the most condescending thing to me ever, in the most condescending tone EVER: “How are YOU today?” she asks me at 10 decibels louder than needed, as if I were deaf or something. I was set-off. I looked at her like I were Lucifer himself and asked her as rudely as possible, “Why are you talking to me like that??” I demanded of her.

*silence* 

She then mumbled something incoherently and the elevator door opened just then. Save me Jebus! I quickly got inside and went down to the coffee shop, ordering a latte with an extra shot of espresso for good measure.

Lesson learned? Don’t leave the house when sleep deprived. 

So be careful, all of you city-dwelling, wheelchair-usin’, subway-riders out there….or else this awful thing could happen to YOU!

Fresh from the New York Post: Subway Clips Wheelchair-User in NYC

She’s alive (she’s some 50-something lady, disability not yet released), but has serious head injuries.

And as we all know head injuries = MAJOR owies. Usually, unhealable owies too.

Poor thing. What a way to go.

– Tiff