Well, today was depressing. Jackson had his regular Perlman day today and they put him in an Expand-A-Seat (i.e. a wheelchair). One of his therapists suggested we start completing the paperwork for a wheelchair.
Josh and I are okay with his diagnosis. We’ve come to terms with it. What haven’t we come to terms with? The wheelchair. He doesn’t need one right now, but he will eventually (I wanted to say he’ll probably need one, but that wouldn’t be true). This is one of those life events you never expect and never plan for.
I don’t know when he’ll need it, but it may be sometime in the next year. That day will be really depressing. There’s no way to sugar-coat it.
Two main reasons this is really bothering me:
- People will know he’s different; and
- People will look at him differently.
It’s nice to take him out now. He gets out in the stroller or the pumpkin seat. He looks normal. No one can really tell he’s different. The only way people can tell is if they spend some time with him and notice he’s not on a one year old level. I acknowledge it will get more noticeable the older he gets, but I don’t like it.
If you’re reading this post, what I’d like you to take from it is please look beyond the wheelchair. There’s a person in it. Pretty soon you’ll be looking at my family. I hope you see my cute son and not the fact he’s in a wheelchair. I might be overreaching a bit (and I hope I am). I just know how I’ve perceived people up till a few months ago. My outlook has changed. When the time comes, I hope I see the wheelchair as a good thing instead of a depressing reminder of his diagnosis.