The weather has not been kind to me for the past few days. Every thirty minutes or so, I would splash water on my face, shoulders and hands to cool myself down. At the same time, I try not to drink too much water. Too much is more than two litres, which not only will overwork my kidneys and require me to perform catheterisation more frequently but will also excessively remove electrolytes and trace minerals from my body.

On the bright side, I received my first pay cheque for a published article in a long long time yesterday. I cannot even remember when the last time was. During the last bloggers meet that Reta organised, Erna asked if I would be interested in submitting a piece for the Soapbox column of PC.COM magazine which she is the editor. I agreed without hesitation. The articled titled “Enabling Technologies” was published in this month’s edition. Yes, that is a smile on my face behind the magazine.

How To Kill A Disabled Person

It is not difficult, really. The solutions are plentiful but I have an easy-to-follow two-step guide that is very effective and widely used here. First: Plant a lamppost right in the middle of a walkway. Provide very little space for a wheelchair to pass through. Wait and watch out for one wheelchair user who is foolish enough to attempt the feat and witness the slightest misjudgement that will see him tumbling onto the road. It will not take long for a bus to pass by and run over him as he lies helpless on the road. Easy, yes?

If however he is so lucky as to escape that gruesome death, move on to step two. Ignore his complaints of the apparent danger. He will eventually get tired for being such a grouch and use the road instead. Due to the extreme difference in height, a man on a wheelchair may fall onto the blind spot of a driver high up in the cab of a speeding truck. The impact of five tons of hurtling metal against a wheelchair would be spectacular. Believe me, it is, the flying body and all! This, ladies and gentlemen, are two ways among many to kill a disabled person.

Scenes from an overactive imagination and paranoia? Not really. I should know better because Wuan and I fell onto the road while we were manoeuvring around a lamppost at Pandan Perdana. We suffered superficial injuries. My wheelchair was damaged. We were fortunate not to be hit by a vehicle while we were sprawled out on the road.

What hurt me most were not the wounds but the deafening silence to my complaints that were forwarded to the Majlis Perbandaran Ampang Jaya (MPAJ), the municipal council whose jurisdiction covers Pandan Perdana. The letter was also copied to the Menteri Besar of Selangor, several relevant Ministries and government departments via post and email. Four weeks have passed. None have bothered to reply or acknowledge it.

This non-responsive attitude by MPAJ is not only disheartening but also renegades on its client charter. It states that they will reply to complaints within one week. What are we as ratepayers and citizens in the eyes of the council then when their client charter is not worth the paper it was written on? It speaks volume of how much lives are worth to the powers that be that run the municipality. Even Datuk Seri Shahrizat had pointed out that local councils think disabled persons and senior citizens are not important. There you go.

As a pedestrian, I put my life on the line every time I go out. The authorities do not have the sense to build amenities that are safe and accessible. They allow vehicles to park on walkways thus forcing me to use the road instead. They build walkways without kerb ramps. Pedestrian crossings are severely lacking. Such bad architecture and the lack of enforcement not only affect disabled persons but all pedestrians in general. Still, I continue use these walkways. Do I have a death wish by foolishly subjecting myself to such risks again and again? No! But are there other alternatives for me? Are there alternatives for the mobility impaired community?

Journeys Of Self-Discovery

Life is a series of journeys. Some are long stretches of dreary paths that seemed to lead nowhere. Some are endless walks in the darkness that felt like alleys to Hades. Others are exciting passages that we wished we could embark on again and again. Nonetheless, each has a lesson to teach, unpleasant or otherwise. And we, as the sojourners, have to learn and make the best of it for each step we take builds up the whole that forms our character.

We choose how we want to live. For better or for worse, the future is in our hands. It is all about choices. When we have decided, we have to live with the consequences. Having made one a long time ago, I am living it everyday now. Friends have asked me if I ever regretted what I chose to do on that fateful day twenty two years ago. I dived into a swimming pool, broke my neck and became permanently paralysed from my chest down. Regret would not bring back what I have lost. I needed to move on anyhow or be left behind and become an inconsequential speck in the sea of humanity. Move on I did.

Admittedly, it is a struggle living with physical impairments. That is made worse by an environment that never takes the convenience of people like me into consideration. It has been a journey filled with frustrations and heartbreaks. There was no way to discharge those pent-up emotions. My mood often alternated between forced optimism and dark depression. Still, I grabbed on to anything and everything to keep afloat until I could find a way to liberate myself from the shackles of my disabilities.

That one release I eventually found was in blogging out my thoughts. It was here that I could express my innermost feelings without inhibitions. Whenever I grieved, or rejoiced, or loved, or celebrated, they were all noted down. The therapeutic effects were tremendous. The burdens of grief and frustrations were somehow lifted off me each time I poured them out into words. It was through this avenue that I discovered myself most. My life has never been the same since. I will continue to chronicle my journeys and hopefully, one day in the future, I may be able discover who I truly am.

At 1-Utama: Posing with the Bar-B-Q Plaza Dragon

There is a new beast in town but Godzilla it is not. The New Straits Times in collaboration with Jaring and a handful of bloggers are working together in an initiative called MONSTERBLOG. Yes, I am one of the Monsterbloggers and will be writing about disability issues mostly. My partners-in-crime are Suanie, ShaolinTiger, Kimberlycun, Paul Tan, JoyceTheFairy, KY, Minishorts, Sultan Muzaffar, Joe Rodrigo and neophyte blogger but veteran journalist SriKathirasa. Oh, and my slot is on Tuesdays. Do pop by to read what I have to rant on those days.

Other Monsters on moNSTer (taken from Kimberlycun without permission):
KY
Kimberlycun
ST
Sultan Muzaffar

Thanabalan the barber gave my hair a good trim today. The electric shaver is such a wonderful invention. In no time, I was sporting a crew cut again, after months of trying to keep it long enough for me to comb. I am not complaining though. Wuan and William and Cynthia agreed that I looked better with a crew cut. I tend to agree with them. Mirrors do not lie!

After the trim, Thanabalan applied a generous amount of Indian barber cologne on my scalp. The overpowering fragrance used to put me off but this time, having fully experienced the cooling sensation on my skin, I loved it. Thereafter, he offered a neck massage that included twisting the head to induce a cracking sound in the vertebra. My neck had been broken once. I told him I do not need him to do it for me another time. Nevertheless, for RM9, he gave a pretty good service.

Immediately after we got home, I took a bath to wash away the bits of loose hair clung on to my body. The weather was extremely hot too. Nothing beats a cool shower on days like this. Then came the pampering that I have been looking forward to for a while - the SKII Facial Treatment Mask. It came in a sealed foil pack. The instruction indicated that it should be left on the face for fifteen minutes. It smelt a little pungent, not unlike that of vinegar, very faintly though. I fell asleep soon after Wuan applied it on my face.

When I got up, it was already three hours later. Wuan had removed it as instructed. I touched my face. It was smoother all right. Although I loved the pampering, I cannot find the justification to pay so much for a piece of paper that contained, of all things, yeast extract. Still, I appreciate that Wuan took the trouble to make me feel good. It did wonders to my long sagging spirits due to my hectic schedule lately. I am a happy camper today.