People’s comments about my leg and disability are a constant source of entertainment. Like death, people sure are awkward and often inappropriate around disability.
“How did you lose the leg? You are so young,” the elderly Indian lady asks me as we stand opposite one another on the parallel bars in the gym.
Here we go again.
I tell her I was amputated as a kid.
She either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t understand me.
“You are missing half your leg,” she comments like perhaps it might have slipped my attention. As if my fly is undone and I am simply unaware.
I nod along with her wondering where this might be going.
“Are you married?” She asks.
I shake my head.
“That is such a shame. How on earth are you going to find a husband now?
“You poor thing.” She gives me a look of pure pity.
This is a first. I didn’t realize to be wife material you needed two legs. Damn.
I can’t help but laugh and shake my head.
The lady standing to my left is next with the line of questioning.
“How did you lose the leg,” she asks.
I inwardly groan. Really there is only so much I can take in one day.
Chris notices my slight awkwardness at her questioning and offers me a spot on the opposite side of the room.
I am grateful. Sure I can laugh and brush off the comments but sometimes you just have enough. It is exhausting and there is limit to how much I can take.