The Fat Man in a Wheelchair

I was injured a few years ago. And then again. Two car accidents in three years. The last one was the worst; without my husbands fast reaction time, people could have died. And two calendars later, I still wake up with an aching back, swollen feet, a stiff neck. I feel like I'm 100 years old. I can't stand up straight without effort and, sometimes, pain. I can't jump or dance or do anything high impact without potentially suffering. Even my ability to do healing things like yoga has been compromised.

And so, do you know what? I've gained weight.

I didn't mean to.

But suddenly, I am a part of that shamed community of "sedentary" individuals who aren't doing what's best for themselves. But in my case-and probably in many other cases as well-what may be best for my tomorrow is inaccessible to me today. I used to love yoga and dancing and biking. I used to live for long walks through my neighborhood. And now the longer I've been injured the worse I feel. And I've gained weight.

What do my family and friends see? The constant pain, sometimes even of walking from one room to the other? No... they see me twenty pounds heavier. That's all they can see.

So I have begun to strongly identify with the fat man in a wheelchair or the fat woman with a cane. Everyone's first assumption is that he or she is in that wheelchair because they are fat. That their knees/hips/back hurts because they are fat. Or worse yet, that maybe they just don't feel like walking, and that is why their fat. But we have no idea. We have no idea. We have no idea why they are in that chair. We have no idea.

A good friend was talking about the health of a famous author and mentioned that he always seems out of breath and uses a cane "because of his weight". But isn't it just as possible that an injury caused his cane use and his asthma is unrelated? Why do we assume that the fat man in the wheel chair is their because he was too lazy to take Zumba?

We shouldn't. We can't know. And for everything we have done as a society to understand and accommodate disabilities, we are still willing to blame the fat person for his or her own mobility issues- as if nothing else could have happened to her.

Here's a story: Once, a woman walked to the grocery store. She filled her bags with healthy foods and even some kombucha. And crossing the street to the bus stop, she was hit by a car. She didn't die. She was grateful not to have died. But she took a long time to heal, and she gained weight. After a month or so, her friends stopped asking about her back and her neck and her concussion. But for the rest of her life, people would body check her, and she would feel inferior. Her mobility would become increasingly limited. Her former self is no longer a realistic goal. She can no longer shop where she wants or eat in public without fear of judgement.

Is this fair? Isn't this the definition of discrimination?

Next time you feel inclined to judge, remember: You have no idea why the man is in the wheelchair. You have no idea why the woman uses a cane. It is not yours to judge.