I’m coining a new term: “cart blocked.”  When the blue lines of a handicapped parking spot are filled with carts, they make the spot useless to anyone who needs the lines to get out a wheelchair, walker, rollator, or their own disabled human body.  I would not be able to get my wheelchair out.  This Kroger store is a “super” Kroger, and yet only has about six handicapped parking spots, meaning one blocked spot is a serious problem.  Everyone buys groceries, including cripples.  Every I time I go I pass people in chairs, with canes, using the scooters.  Most of us need the spots.

The issue is two-fold.  Ablebodied people often shove their carts in the blue lines rather than walk the longer way to the cart corral or into the store.  And some disabled people are forced to leave their carts there because it’s too difficult to make the trek to the corral or store; the issue here being that the staff are always too slow in clearing the spaces.  I’ve gone into this metro Detroit Kroger, shopped for forty minutes or more, and come out to see lines still filled.  This picture is from summer, but this is a frequent occurrence.

How can ableds help?  Don’t be a cart blocker.  You can help by stopping by the customer service desk and letting them know there are carts filling a handicapped spot if you see it, and if you see someone trying to stash their cart there, call them out.  Explain to the store or the cart blocker why it’s a problem.  If you see a disabled person putting groceries in their car, you can very politely offer to take the cart back for them.  Do remember, though, not to get pushy, invasive, or offended if they say “no.”  They might be able to do it themselves.  If you’re feeling spritely, and see a cart in a spot alone, you can run it to the corral or store yourself.  Keep in mind, it’s the store’s job to do this, so also keep on the customer service desk if you see carts languishing frequently.  Be polite but pushy when it comes to people violating disabled people’s spaces.  This is not acceptable shit.



So I finally got my walker! (thank you again to those of you who helped me out with getting it) I went to the craft store and got a bunch of stuff and decorated it, because I just can’t deal with a plain walker :p Everything (besides the rhinestones) can easily be removed if need be. I’m so happy with it, isn’t it cute?!?!?! If anyone has any questions on how I did any of this or where I got my materials please don’t be afraid to ask me! Id love to help someone deck out their mobility aid

okay,, some trc disability headcanons that probably each occur in their own au since most friend groups aren’t like mine where we all just happen to turn out to be disabled

-i’m so enamored by the idea of bad ass cpunk blue sargent. blue developing a chronic pain disorder in her early 20s and getting herself a fire truck red rollator that she decorates in a garrish fashion. blue trying everything from herbal teas courtesy of maura to fancy specialists courtesy of the gansey’s connections for her pain. the only thing that helps is figuring out how to meditate herself inside of a tree for a couple of hours, but that’s exhausting in its own way. 

-ronan who has used a wheelchair since childhood and YES it’s got skull spoke guards u plebes. ronan with a super fluffy service dog named chainsaw. ronan installing hand controls in the bmw and decking anyone that cracks jokes about him racing in his chair. (oh fuck i bet ronan has named his chair of course he did!!! boy names everything!!!)

-adam w magical nerve damage or dysautonomia after cabeswater leaves him. things don’t go quite back to the way they were before bc sentient forests are bad at human anatomy and physiology and signals get crossed. adam readjusting to a body that is unpredictable in an entirely different way than from before and learning that he actually has to take care of himself. 

-bonus: gansey just snapping his fingers and making elevators and ramps appear for his friends. 

People that unironically love “Never Gonna Give You Up”
  • When you get rick-rolled, it’s like they just played your jam at the club outta nowhere
  • you low key wanna do stuff inspired by it but who tf would take it seriously lmao??
  • Goes out of their way to search for the video, just to appreciate this banger
  • knows all the words, becoming your own personal human-rick-roll
  • At least once, you’ve accidentally rick-rolled someone by genuinely recommending it

{Image Descriptions: Four pictures of me in a Doctor’s office, sitting in chair with walker in front of me decorated with cats in space, wearing a blue face mask, a black skirt and a black and grey asymmetrically striped sweater.  1st Photo: One shoulder thrown back, my hip thrust sideways, looking up.  2nd Photo: Leaning forward with hands on my the sides of my head and looking into the camera.  3rd Photo: Sitting straight up looking into the lens with both arms wrapped behind my back, with finger tips just showing on opposite sides of waist.  4th Photo: Leaning sideways with hip thrust out, looking up, with hands on either side of my head.}

Today was my ill prepared trip to the Neurologist, but it was ok, because they doubt it’s anything neuro and just want to do some standard nerve conduction and muscle testing stuff to rule everything out.  My doctor was super duper professional, managing to do that thing where they show no emotions but still project kindness and gravity.  The only reason I’m not wishing it were neurological just so I could keep this doctor is because he was very reassuring that he thinks I’ll get a Dx later this month from my upcoming appointment.

Which brings me to the thing that made me spoonie happy today.

I’m listing off every symptom I have to the nurse, since this is neuro and a ton of stuff could be relevant, and I’m working towards telling them that I’m being seen for an EDS screening later this month.  We get to the end of the symptoms and they do a super pointed “Is there anything else you’ve been diagnosed with maybe?”.  I tell them I’m being screened and they like, squeal “Oh my GOD, I couldn’t say anything cuz I’m a nurse, but you soooooo have all the symptoms of Ehlers-Danlos!  And I wanted to say something but I couldn’t!”.  And I told them I have the appointment with Dr. Ireton on the 24th and they just flip OUT all smiles and squeaking about how they used to work with her and that I should say hi for them, and telling me about these weekly group appointments Dr. Ireton does for EDS patients.  And so that was awesome, and made me feel more like it’s not in my head.  

Then the nurse put a note about it in my chart for the doctor.  So the doctor threw in a few obvious hypermobility/dislocation questions and also had me bend my thumbs back, which I suspect isn’t a neuro test.  He didn’t really answer any questions {like I still don’t know if my ankle and wrist “going out” are dislocations since they don’t hurt a ton}, but he did give me an official diagnosis of Joint Hypermobility Syndrome, which he said would help more than my recitation of what my old physical therapist said to me. The neurologist told me that Dr. Ireton is great, and also the only Ehlers-Danlos specialist/knowledgeable doctor in Western North Carolina.

ableism and sexism combined on the bus for me today and i am still a seething ball of resentment.

i pushed my rollator into a fold up seat spot and sat on it (so i wouldn’t take up extra space by sitting on the seat and having my rollator in front of me) and this guy. this fucking guy sits next to me and immediately starts using the handle as an arm rest. his elbow is fucking sticking out into my seat, probably taking up a third of my space so i’m squeezed up all on one side. fucking manspreading with his arms.

and he has the fucking audacity to push off the handle to stand up, sending me sliding sideways into the wall and then just. fucking leans on it? the whole rest of the journey? when there were handholds literally half a foot above his head?

i wish i’d said something but i didn’t want to start an argument on the bus.



My drawn self-portrait for No Shame Day. I have a wide collection of illnesses and conditions/disorders. On my better days, I can take the rollator out to walk my someday service dog.

I’m not really that pleased with how this turned out (there’s too much empty space? or the background is more lackluster than normal?) But I like the way Penelope turned out, so I’ve included a crop of just her portrait.

I’m spending the day drawing other people though so I didn’t want to spend extra time making myself like this picture. I’ve finished a couple of people’s portraits now, and I will queue them, and then when I wake up I’ll draw the rest!

CripplePunk Advanced commission for Pamala Dean.

[image description: A digital artwork depicting a pale woman dressed in comfortable looking purple clothes that have layers and a red bag strap across her chest meeting at a black side bag that is around her waist. She has light, ashy hair and is wearing a yellow, wide-brimmed hat and pink glasses. She has very dark brown eyes. She is using a red rollator style walker. On the rollator is a large, calico cat with yellow eyes. To her right is a small mini Aussie with black, brown, and white markings. To her left is a large golden retriever with a red and black harness. Behind her is an art nouveau style background with a wreath of red poppies.]

  • Ältere Frau versucht krampfhaft mit ihr Rollator zu laufen:
  • Ich nehme köpfhörer weg und halte an: Tschuldige, kann ich Ihnen helfen?
  • Ältere Frau lächelt fröhlich: Nein, aber danke dass ihr mir sowas fragt, sowas von Jungen Menschen anzubieten zu bekommen ist sehr schön.
  • Ich: Ich helfe immer gerne, ist keine Widerrede.
  • Ältere Frau: Sie sind eine bildhübsche und einzigartige junge Frau. Nicht viele denken wie sie, die meisten Jugendliche machen sich lustig über unsere Falten der alten Menschen und vergessen dabei, dass sie später genau so aussehen.
  • Ich: Wissen Sie eigentlich, dass jeder eure Falten wunderschön sind? Wollen sie wissen warum? Jeder eure Falte, erzählt eine Geschichte.
  • Ältere Frau ist sprachlos: Sie wurden wohl sehr gut erzogen, wow ich bin sprachlos. Sie sind ein sehr besonderer Mensch, bleiben Sie bitte immer so wie sie sind.
  • Ich: Wieso bin ich so besonders?
  • Ältere Frau: Sie haben so ein großes Herz. Das sieht man und spürt man.
I'm Ready

Losing weight can be a daunting task for anyone who has to lose weight. Now, imagine you are an individual classified as being super obese, that is someone who has a BMI of over 40. It is also known as grade 3 obesity. The healthy range of BMI is 18.5 - 25. According to a BMI calculator I used through my current BMI is a frightening 67.9! The calculator also told me that my weight for my height should be between 116.4-157.3. I’m ashamed to say that current weight as of last Friday (10/9/15) was 427lbs. I’m nowhere near what they consider “normal”.

At this point in my life it’s either do or die. I’m 43 years old and I’m basically just existing. Because of numerous medical conditions I am unable to do most things people my age are doing. Simple things such as being able to stand and walk for an extended period of time. Because of limited mobility, and somewhat a fear of being judged and made fun of I don’t go out much anymore. When I do I usually only go to certain stores that I know have mobility scooters available to their customers. Other times I depend on a cane or a rollator. Up until a month ago I was even making arrangements to get my own mobility chair. But, one day about two weeks ago, I came to the decision that I would not get that chair and right then and there in my heart of hearts decided that I would start to do something to change my life.

That’s when I came up with the idea of doing a blog, this blog, Rite 2 Life, to journal my journey to better health for not just the body but also the mind and spirit. See, I believe that in order for things to “work” there needs to be balance. I’ve been off-balance so long that my life has been suffering. Suffering in the form of:


high blood pressure

high cholesterol

acid reflux


chronic back pain

diabetic neuropathy

fatty liver

plantar fasciaitis


chronic fatigue syndrome

gastro parisis


sleep apnea


social anxiety

This list is staggering for anyone but I’m only 43 years old!

To top it off I’m on a litany of medications which help but also hurt me. I can’t stop taking them at this point because it would do more harm then good.

I have a life to live! I have a “rite” 2 life. I have people who are depending on me. I need to make these changes. There is no negotiating this. This will happen. It has to or I’m afraid to say I won’t be here.

This blog is vital in my transformation. It helps me be accountabe, gives me a place to vent, to share ideas, to inspire, to re-evaluate, to be honest, to encourage, but most of all to see me in all my glory. I know it won’t be easy but I’m well prepared for the fight. See, I’ve had 43 years to prepare and I’m ready!

Lieve, oude meneer

Lieve meneer, 

Weken geleden, maanden misschien, liep u nog achter een rollator. Iets dat mij ook maar vertelt werd. Weken geleden, maanden misschien, toen ik u nog niet kende. Ik wilde niet geloven dat u de honderd al was gepasseerd. U zag er nog zo goed uit. 

Weken geleden leerde ik u kennen. Vanaf dag één hadden we de grootste lol. U riep constant om hulp en daar was ik. Om te helpen of om gewoon even bij u te zitten. 

U wilde met mij trouwen en nog meer andere dingen doen. U zat altijd achter mijn lunch aan. Zelfs nadat u uw eigen eten al had opgegeten. We waren, in uw droom, samen naar de film geweest. Een oude film. U heeft meerdere malen tegen mij gezegd dat u mij lief vond en dat deed iets met mij. 

Zeker, er waren mindere dagen en er waren dagen bij dat ik heb gedacht dat ik u nooit meer terug zou zien. Keer op keer, week na week, zag ik u weer zitten aan de ontbijttafel. Bij het middageten en vlak voordat ik naar huis mocht. 
Tot vandaag…

Deze maandagochtend kreeg ik te horen dat dit de laatste dag was dat ik u zou zien. De lieve, oude meneer waar ik de afgelopen weken met heel veel liefde voor gezorgd had. Ik moest afscheid nemen, begreep ik. Mijn emoties gingen met mij op de loop, ik merkte het meteen. 

Bij het middageten zag u mijn krentenbollen op tafel liggen. Wat hebben we gelachen toen u begon te praten over de krentenbollen. U wilde ze hebben. Een paar tellen later at u gewoon uw sperziebonen op. Het hele bord. Iets wat u normaal gesproken niet deed. U wilde zelfs nog meer. Na het eten begon u weer over mijn krentenbollen. Uw gezicht stond beteuterd toen ik vertelde dat ik ze had opgegeten. Ik kon mijn lach niet inhouden. U lachte met mij mee. 

De hele dag deed ik mijn best om ze onder controle te houden. Tot het moment dat u wegging. Toen u werd opgehaald. 

U werd in uw jas geholpen en u was bang dat ze uw hoed zouden vergeten. Angstig vroeg u om uw hoed. Uw ogen stonden verdrietig. Net als die van mij. Mijn ogen die zich inmiddels hadden gevuld met tranen. Een laatste blik. Ik zwaaide, maar ik vraag me af of u dat wel goed had gezien. 
Daar ging u. Op naar uw nieuwe woning. Een betere plek voor u. Die gedachte maakte het verdriet voor mij niet minder zwaar. U werd weggereden en daar kwamen mijn tranen. 

Dag lieve, oude meneer. Ik ga u missen. 
Dag lieve, oude meneer. Tot ooit. 

Cripple Punk portrait

[image description: a digital artwork depicting a tan skinned person with a shaved head but has beach blond, very curly bangs that are dyed green on the tips. They are wearing a black turtleneck and a pair of jeans and a silver spoon necklace. They have several piercings. They are standing with a green rollator style walker. The background is pale green with a floral wreath of water lilies and lily pads. They seem aloof and reserved.]